


Vengeance is Beautiful

by sofia_estrella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Chaptered, Drama, Gen, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Novel, POV Multiple, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofia_estrella/pseuds/sofia_estrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Harry are dead; killed by Voldemort. Lily was spared. Grief-stricken, but determined, she sets out to avenge their deaths. Everyone that played a part must suffer: their traitorous secret-keeper, the Dark Lord himself… But what Lily didn’t count on was that her childhood friend—who insists on joining her on her quest—is also partly to blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halloween Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Voldemort tried to shove her away, Lily had a terrible thought—she didn’t have to die. She could save herself.

It was the small moments like these that made the months of incarceration feel less tedious.      

            Harry and James were in the living room, already inseparable, entertaining each other. James shot puffs of colorful smoke from the tip of his wand. Harry watched in wonder and clapped his hands, giggling happily while he tried to catch the smoke. Lily leaned against the wall and observed them, an easy smile on her face. For a moment she forgot that she had been confined to a small house for over a year, with few distractions. But Harry was a Godsend. His first steps, his first words, his first birthday… all very welcome distractions—from the flow of bad news they could do nothing about; from the monotony of house-arrest…    

            James glanced up from his son, and smiled at Lily, having just noticed her presence. She crossed the room and stood near the couch. Harry stumbled and fell over backward on the floor. James chuckled and helped him back to his feet.

            “Harry needs to go to bed,” Lily murmured. She didn’t know why she felt this to be important: Time bore little meaning now. Everything moved at such a slow pace. Days crawled by, but they passed nonetheless. And for some reason, keeping a schedule seemed important to her.

            James frowned briefly. Harry was trying to pull James’s wand from his wand. James resisted and it turned into a gentle game of tug-of-war. 

            “He can stay up a little longer.”

            “Tomorrow’s another day,” Lily said softly, rising from the couch. James sighed and hoisted Harry up and passed him off to Lily. It seemed like he was getting heavier all the time. 

            Harry reached out toward James’s wand, which lay on the couch. He made a small whimper and tried in vain to grab it, almost squirming out of Lily’s grasp.             

            “He likes your wand,” Lily commented, bouncing Harry on her hip to calm him.    

            James nodded absently, reclining back on the couch and yawning widely. 

            “Well, I’ll put him to bed now.” Lily started toward the stairs, when a sound stopped her. She froze and looked over to James. 

            “Was that the…?” she began. 

            “The door?” he finished, nodding. “I think so. Let me check. Probably Padfoot…”   

            James stood up and went off in the opposite direction of Lily.          

            “I’ll be right back,” she called after him. Lily started up the stairs. Harry was quickly nodding off now, heavy in her arms. Suddenly there was a shout from behind her:   

            “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!”*        

            James’s voice. Lily froze in her tracks. _Him?_ That could only mean one thing, but she didn’t understand… she couldn’t accept it. There was the sound of cruel, cold laughter, and then… Lily’s heart stopped.         

            “ _Avada Kedavra_!”       

            The voice wasn’t James’s this time. His wand was still lying on the couch, after all. Lily realized what was happening all at once. She regained control of her body and sprinted up the stairs and down the hall and into Harry’s bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and felt the panic rising in her chest.           

            Where was her wand?            

            Downstairs. In the kitchen.     

            Lily’s breath was coming in ragged gulps as she plopped Harry down in his crib. He looked up at her with wide eyes. Seeing no other option, Lily began shoving furniture against the door—she knew how hopeless it was. Not completely aware of herself, she screamed at the top of her lungs, pulling at her hair and pacing the floor of the nursery. How could this have happened to them? 

            But no one would hear her. And if they did, it was Halloween: Random screams and shrieks were not unusual tonight.          

            She was trembling. Her chest felt constricted. She scooped up Harry again and held him close to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for only a moment before hearing pounding at the door. A second later, it burst open, the haphazardly-made barricade crumbling. Lily spun around and replaced Harry in the crib in one fluid motion. She stared at the tall, cloaked figure before her. A white hand gripped a long, dark wand.          

            Lily threw her arms wide across the crib. “Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”*        

            Voldemort moved closer to her, the wand extended. “Move aside, you silly girl… stand aside now.”*      

            Lily shook her head vigorously, the tears beginning to brim her eyes. Of course, they would both die. But it was worth a shot.  She continued pleading with him to spare her son.

            The cloaked figure was only inches away from her now. She could see under the hood—a terrible pale face, like it hadn’t seen the light of day in years; eyes glowing with murder; bared teeth…        

            Voldemort tried to shove her away from the crib, but she clung to it. Harry was silent behind her, like he wasn’t even there.      

            He ordered her to stand aside again and again, but she wouldn’t.   

            He shoved her again forcefully, but her will was stronger. Voldemort was quickly losing his patience—his wand twitched in his hand. Lily faced death, flinging herself between her child and this monster. The monster tried one last time—Lily wondered why he went to any trouble at all to spare her. What did her life mean to him? What did any life mean to him?

            As Voldemort shoved at her shoulder, Lily had a terrible thought—the kind she would keep locked up in a prison of shame inside her head and never let out again.

 _She didn’t have to die._             

            She could save herself.           

            In that critical moment, Lily felt that ancient, selfish instinct—the desire to live. But she only deliberated for an instant: It was too much to bear, thinking of her child dead and herself alive. She was ready to recommit herself to her sacrifice, after only a split-second of temptation.      

            But her momentary hesitation was all it took.

            A flash of green light blinded her, but it clearly went past her, behind her. And she was still alive, though she knew immediately this was not a relief. Because there had been a Killing Curse. Someone was dead. And if it wasn’t her…    

            Lily was moving through a dream. As she whirled around, stumbling over her feet, she heard a loud crack from behind her. Voldemort was gone—Disapparated. She fell over the crib. The wood was cracked and blackened—hot to the touch. The blankets were singed.      

            And there was Harry. He appeared untouched—whole and unscathed. Just tipped over in his bed. Tipped over and not moving. Sleeping, maybe. Sleeping with his eyes open. His green eyes.         

            Lily told herself these lies. Her baby boy was sleeping—only sleeping. But this contradicted another overwhelming thought:

 _It’s all my fault._            

            She couldn’t connect these two ideas in her head. Harry was asleep and it was all her fault.        

            Lily reached out her hands toward Harry—he shouldn’t be laying in the demolished, smoking crib. But when her fingers met the skin of his arms, she recoiled. He was already cold. Stone cold. Ice cold. As cold as… death.             

            Lily’s breath was painful as she clambered out of the room and down the hall and the stairs. The world was foggy and lethargic, like in a dream. A dream that was fast becoming a nightmare. She staggered past the couch, determinedly averting her eyes from where she knew James’s wand still was. She rounded the corner, toward the front door and she collapsed to the ground immediately.    

            James was lying spread-eagle on the floor mere inches away from her. She stared at him until her vision became blurry, as if she was underwater. Her nose was burning and she felt like she was choking. Hot tears were streaming down her face.      

            Then she let out the most terrible wail. The sound of it scared her. She couldn’t believe she had made such a sound. Assuming the fetal position on the cold floor, she rocked back and forth. She was made of misery. She was misery.      

            “James,” Lily sobbed. Her voice was thick with despair and grief. She felt like she might pass out—or die. Like she should’ve in the first place. Because she should’ve died. How was it that her biggest regret was being alive?   

            Her sobs came slower, less violently. She risked a peek at James. She only saw his profile—long nose, crooked glasses, eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. Lily could hardly recognize him. He had always been so full of life. Now that the life had left him, he seemed to be a different person. His flaws were more visible—the blemishes, the asymmetries—as if his raw liveliness had covered them up before.           

            Maybe Lily could pretend she still hated him. That would make things so much easier.     

            But she couldn’t remember what it had been like to hate him. She doubted she ever really had. How could anyone have hated James? Anyone who actually knew him, at least.          

            Lily was quiet. She had no more tears. No more energy. She dragged herself up and sat against the wall, staring at James until she couldn’t bear it anymore. Standing up required a great effort—she paused to catch her breath. Her breathing was unsteady, tremulous.      

            Walking the few steps to the door was a journey. It took all her willpower to not collapse into a helpless, blubbering heap on the floor. There was a time for that. Now was the time to get help. Lily’s hand was shaking so badly she could hardly secure a grip on the doorknob. After a time, she managed to turn it and open the door slowly. Each movement was something she had to do. And she had to put her entire being into every task. She couldn’t allow her mind to wander.   

            The night was cool. A breeze stirred up crisp leaves and nipped at Lily’s nose. She hadn’t set foot outside the house in… a very long time. There were a few stragglers, trick-or-treaters, roaming the streets: Muggles, completely unaware of her trauma. Her burden. And her guilt.       

            Lily sat down on the lawn, not knowing what else to do. Who was she planning on getting help from? And how could anyone help her at a time like this? The ground was warmer than the air, though a delicate layer of frost was beginning to form on the grass. The stars were dim overhead. Only the very brightest were visible through the dark clouds. The moon was a sliver in the sky—barely there at all.     

            In her stubborn denial, Lily allowed herself a moment.        

            She had only come out on the lawn late at night. She had crept out of bed while James slept. Harry was also sleeping soundly in his room. Any minute now, the front door would open and close. Lily wouldn’t turn around, but continue to gaze at the sky. James would sigh as he sat beside her, his knees cracking as they always did.          

            They wouldn’t speak to each other. They didn’t have to. She would only lean against his shoulder. He would stroke her hair, and hum a song she didn’t recognize. Maybe they’d fall asleep in the grass and wake up the next morning, coated in dew…

            Lily was forced out of her fantasy by a rather loud sound. A familiar sound, but she couldn’t place it…                

            She leapt to her feet, her heart beating wildly. There was a figure at the edge of their lawn that wasn’t there before. Lily realized she still didn’t have her wand, and wondered if the person had seen her in the dark.             

            “Lily?” called the figure, as he started toward her.   

            She paused as the shadows lifted from the man’s face.        

            “Sirius,” she croaked. That was all it took—she broke down again, sobbing inconsolably. 

            He allowed her into his arms, clearly confused as she cried on his shoulder.          

            “Lily, what’s wrong?” he said gently. 

            “James… and—and Harry,” she choked out, all but incoherent.       

            Sirius carefully drew away from her so he could see her face. “What about them?” he said tensely.        

            “They’re—they’re…” Lily couldn’t finish, but she saw the comprehension dawn on Sirius’s face. He blanched and his hands began to tremble.        

            “They’re dead,” he whispered, not framing it as a question.            

            Lily wailed in answer. Sirius was unresponsive as she sobbed into his shirt. His eyes were distant, and his face impassive. Then he swallowed hard, and Lily saw his face harden and his jaw clench.           

            “Voldemort,” he hissed. 

            Lily nodded miserably.                        

            “And… and Pettigrew,” he spat, his hands forming into fists.           

            Her tears ceased for a moment. She hadn’t thought of Peter, their secret-keeper. But of course—he was the one. The traitor.   

            “Sirius,” Lily said softly, knowing that he was switching to uncontrollable-rage mode.       

            “I’m gonna kill him,” he muttered, looking quite unstable as he clasped and unclasped his hands.           

            “Sirius, you—”            

            “He betrayed you, Lily!” Sirius shouted, his voice cracking. 

            “Don’t—” she tried.    

            “It’s his fault! His fault that they’re dead!” This time Sirius’s voice didn’t give away his grief and desperation. But there was a very particular shine to his eyes.        

            “Listen to me,” Lily begged, clutching his arm. As they stared at each other, a tear slipped from each of their eyes. Sirius hastily wiped his away, but Lily let hers track down her cheek to the corner of her mouth.        

            “I’m gonna kill him,” Sirius said in a tone that suggested that whether he wanted to or not, it was just a fact. He was going to kill Peter. He had little choice in the matter. 

            “You can’t,” Lily breathed.     

            “I have to,” he said evenly.     

            “Not yet,” she whispered. “Take some time to… cool off. To think rationally.”       

            Sirius blinked out another tear, which he didn’t dry as it trailed down his face. He nodded helplessly. Then, by some unspoken agreement, they both broke down in sobs, falling into each other in the lonely night. 


	2. The Secret Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It makes me feel better, doing something,” Lily admitted. “And, I… I want to avenge their deaths. I won’t stop until I do.”  
>  “How do you plan on doing that?”  
> “I don’t know,” she sighed. “But I will. Or I’ll die trying.”

Lily had never realized how accurate the stages of grief were.

            She had been in denial for an unhealthy amount of time. She simply refused to admit to herself or anyone else that James and Harry were dead. She pretended to not understand why everyone was bringing her casseroles and sympathy cards.  And flowers. And sad smiles and hugs and tear-filled eyes… Why did they keep apologizing to her? What ‘loss’ were they talking about?

            It wasn’t until the funeral that it really hit her: James and Harry were dead. They were each lying in a casket, side by side, at the front of the church. James’s face was smooth and powdered, his hair combed like it never had been in life. His hands were folded across his chest. He was wearing his best suit—his only suit—and the wedding ring. He never liked to wear the ring. He wore it for maybe a month after the wedding, then admitted he didn’t like wearing rings. Lily was alright with it—for most of their marriage they were locked inside the same house, anyway. That was more than enough bondage. 

            Harry was harder to look at. His skin was pale and surely cold to the touch though Lily dared not touch him. His casket was so tiny. It wasn’t right. No casket ought to be so small. No one so young ought to die. Lily should have died. Then there’d be three caskets at the front of the church, but at least she wouldn’t be here to see it. 

_If I die, maybe Harry and James could be alive. Somehow._

            Lily caught herself: _I’m bargaining again… Damn five stages_. 

            She could imagine nothing worse she’d ever have to experience than the funeral. So many people. The sound of quiet words, and sniffing into tissues. Dabbing at eyes; running mascara… It seemed like everyone from Hogwarts was there. Even a couple professors—she’d expected Dumbledore to come, but McGonagall and Slughorn, too? It was like a class reunion. Lily wanted it to be over. Not near this many people had attended their wedding… 

            Trying to stay hidden was impossible. People sought her out. They embraced her and said the same words over and over; _I’m so sorry, Lily. So sorry. Is there anything I can do?_

            Lily would muster up a brave smile and tell them no, there was nothing they could do, but thanks anyway. Leaving her alone would be nice, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud. 

            And when she thought it couldn’t get any more miserable, the ceremony started. She sat in the front, between Sirius and Remus. The last Marauder was conspicuously absent. The elephant in the room—no one spoke of Peter. 

            Sirius got up to say some words at the podium. He gripped the edges of it until his knuckles turned white and stared at his paper, clearing his throat for a very long time. Then he sighed, and muttered under his breath. Unfortunately the microphone picked it up:

            “Merlin, I can’t do this…”

            Everyone pretended to not have heard. Sirius roughly crumpled the piece of paper and shoved it back into his pocket. He stared out at the crowd for a while. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, before he was able to begin.

            “I met James in my first year on the Hogwarts Express.” His voice was shaky but growing stronger. “We were best friends right away. We grew up together and went through everything together.”

            Sirius had given up looking out at the audience and was clearly just trying to get through this, his eyes shut tightly as if against pain. 

            “Everything,” he repeated, forcing an odd laugh. “And I’m honored that he chose me to be Harry’s godfather. Our time with Harry was much too short, but I know he was going to be just like James. And… and I don’t know if James ever really knew how much he—”

            His voice broke and he let out a strangled gasp. Drawing in a deep breath, he tried again.

            “I know I didn’t say it enough, and probably never in these exact words, but… I love you, Prongs.” 

            Sirius’s face was set, emotionless, as he left the podium and returned to his spot beside Lily. It was all she could do to not start bawling as he gave her a solemn nod. There was something wrong with his eyes—something broken… 

            Remus got up next, and, without looking up once, began to read from a piece of paper. His voice was weak and monotone.

            “James’s friendship meant more to me than I could ever say. As I’m sure you all know by now, I’m a werewolf. When I first found friends in James and Sirius, I was afraid to tell them because I thought they would abandon me. But it didn’t take them long to figure out why I kept disappearing every month. And—and they didn’t abandon me. Not by a long shot. In fact…”

            Remus faltered and shook his head, still staring at the paper in his hands.

            “In fact, James used to say—”

            The words seemed caught in his throat. Remus dropped his speech and leaned forward, burying his face in his palms. It was obvious he couldn’t go on. As he returned to his seat, the minister rushed forward and picked up where Remus left off, reading the words. It was an incredibly well-written and moving speech, but it was almost meaningless with the minister reading it. He didn’t know James. Lily noticed that Remus had deftly avoided the sensitive topic of Peter, and also failed to mention the unregistered-Animagi situation that was always the best part of the story.

            Nonetheless, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place by the time the minister had finished reading it. After a few more prayers and other such formalities, they filed out of the church, and to the nearby cemetery. Lily looked on helplessly as the two people she had loved more than anyone else were lowered into the ground. 

            Over the next couple of weeks—it may have been months; she couldn’t tell anymore—Lily lived. That was basically all she did. She didn’t eat, except when forced to, and couldn’t sleep more than an hour or two at a time. She found it impossible to believe the world would go on—that life would go on. People always said that’s what it felt like when someone died, but that life when on anyway. Lily didn’t see how it could. She didn’t want it to. 

            She wallowed. She stared out of windows and at walls. She lost several pounds. There was nothing worth doing. Not anymore. 

            “It’s all my fault,” she said one day, watching the first snowflakes of the season begin to fall. Until now, her guilt had been a private obsession. Sirius glanced up from the latest casserole—he’d been staying with her off and on, if only to take care of her.   
            “What’d you say?”

            “It’s all my fault,” Lily repeated. The snow wasn’t sticking. It melted as soon as it touched the ground.  

            “Don’t say that,” he said evenly, plopping a plate in front of her. “Eat.”

            Lily shoved the food away. “I’m not hungry.”

            “I don’t care. You have to eat something.”

            She crossed her arms stubbornly.

            “I let you get away with this at dinner last night. But not now—you’re going to eat something.” 

            Lily sighed and took one forkful of the casserole. It was tasteless and mushy. She forced it down her throat and pushed the plate away again. 

            “Damn it, Lily,” Sirius snapped, suddenly transitioning into agitation. “You’re not the only one having a hard time with this.”

            She blinked in surprise. “It’s worse for me, because it’s my fault. Would you like to live with that?”

            He stood up abruptly, his chair falling away from his with a crash. “How the hell is this your fault?”

            Lily was unaffected by his anger. It seemed to be his favorite stage of grief. “I should’ve died. But I didn’t. I didn’t die for Harry.”

            Sirius looked at her incredulously, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “Would you like to tell me how things would be better if you had died? If all three of you had died? Everyone is glad that you’re alive. No one blames you.”

            “But if I had died, then maybe—”

            “Maybe what? They’d be alive?” Sirius interrupted. “No! You’d all be dead. And then I’d have your blood on my hands as well.”

            Lily was caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

            “It’s my fault, Lily. More than it is yours, anyway.”

            “How is it _your_ fault?!” she asked in exasperation. “You’re such a hypocrite, telling me that it’s not my fault, and then going and saying—”

            “Who insisted you make Peter your secret-keeper?” he said quietly.

            Lily stopped arguing and stared back at him. “But you couldn’t have known that he—”

            “It doesn’t matter what I ‘couldn’t have known.’ I still have to live with that.”

            They stood in the silent kitchen, looking everywhere but into each other’s eyes. Lily turned back to the casserole and took a few more dutiful bites, willing herself not to throw it back up as soon as she swallowed it. 

            Sirius finally broke the silence. “I’m going to go now. You know where to find me, but I’ll probably be back in a couple days. Take care of yourself, Lily. Starving yourself isn’t going to solve anything.” 

            He walked past her and paused behind her chair. He put a hand on her shoulder gently. She didn’t react. After a moment, he bent down and kissed the top of her head before ducking out of the front door.

 

* * *

 

Lily spent a lot of time thinking as she continued her hobby of blankly staring at walls for the next day or two. She hadn’t really thought before, just… stared. And wallowed. Always wallowing. In guilt, self-pity, misery, despair… but it was all slowly mixing together to anger. She broke things and screamed into pillows, soaking them with hot, angry tears. And through it all, Lily came to a decision.  It seemed she had found something worth doing. 

            She showed up on Sirius’s doorstep late at night. It took him a long time to answer her knocking. He opened the door and peered out.

            “Lily?” he mumbled, letting her in. His face was unshaven, his hair messy and greasy, sticking up in all directions, his eyes were bloodshot—the stale stench of alcohol hovered about him like an aura—and his shirt was stained and wrinkled. 

            “I’ve been taking care of myself,” Lily said irritably. “Couldn’t you have returned the favor?” 

            He shrugged. “Never mind that. What’s the matter?”

            “Nothing, nothing,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m ready.”

            “Ready for what?” he grunted, rubbing his eyes.

            She inhaled deeply. “I’m ready to find Peter.”

 

* * *

 

The alley was empty, except for Lily and Sirius. They stood side-by-side in dark cloaks, wielding their wands.

            “He’s here?” Lily whispered, as they began creeping down the alley, obscured in shadows.

            “Should be,” Sirius answered, stopping suddenly. He held out a hand for her to stop. They both held their breath. 

            Ahead of them a ways, there was a small man. He moved down the alley, shadow to shadow, glancing behind his shoulder nervously every couple of steps. Lily tightened her grip on her wand. She felt Sirius tense beside her. He beckoned her forward. They started off slowly and silently but only got so far before the man stopped dead in his tracks. Lily and Sirius stared at him, and he seemed to recognize them. The fear on his face deepened. 

            Peter whipped out his wand, but Sirius immediately disarmed him. He and Lily moved in closer, while Peter backed up against the wall, trembling. The sheen of sweat was on his brow.

            “L-Lily… Sirius,” he stammered, smiling weakly. “S-sorry I missed the funeral, I—”

            Peter choked as Sirius shoved the tip of his wand to Peter’s throat.

            “No more games, Wormtail,” Sirius hissed, forcing Peter’s head against the brick wall. 

            “Wha—what?”

            “Admit it,” Sirius ordered, his eyes flashing dangerously in the dim alley. “Admit what you did.”

            “I don’t know what—” Peter began unconvincingly.  He was silenced by Sirius’s wand, which was digging deeper into the skin under his chin. 

            “You sold the Potters to Voldemort,” Sirius said. “Didn’t you? You killed James and Harry.

            “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t _kill_ them—I didn’t know!” Peter wailed, pulling helplessly at the wand that pinned him to the wall, trapped him. 

            “I said _no more games_ ,” Sirius growled, using his left hand to slam Peter’s head into the building behind him. Lily made a small noise of protest, which he ignored. 

            Peter moaned and began blubbering incoherently. “Please… Sirius… Don’t… I didn’t… _know_!”

            Sirius grabbed Peter by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward so their faces were only inches apart, though Sirius was a whole head taller. 

            “I should kill you,” he said in a voice barely audible though full of venom. Then Sirius threw him back against the wall. Peter crumpled to the ground.

            Lily, who had been watching the confrontation quietly, piped up. “You shouldn’t, Sirius. Not now… not ever—he’s not worth becoming a killer. He can rot in Azkaban.” 

            Peter let out a stifled howl. Sirius kicked him, and he fell silent. 

            “Today’s your lucky day,” Sirius said bitterly. “Now stand up.” 

            Peter remained on the ground.

            “Get up,” Sirius commanded, kicking him again. Suddenly, something about Peter’s hands changed. They were shrinking. So were his head, and—his entire body. It happened so fast, Lily didn’t realize what was going on before it was too late. Sirius was a little quicker on the uptake and began firing curses at the fleeing rat. But it slipped behind a dumpster. Sirius blasted the dumpster away. The rat was nowhere to be seen in the dark alley.

            Sirius continued whirling around and hurling curses in every which way, swearing loudly between each one. Finally, Lily caught his arm and tried to calm him down.

            “Sirius! Sirius! He’s gone.”

            He shook his head and tried to break free of Lily’s grasp. She held on tighter. 

            “It’s okay,” Lily said softly. “We’ll get him next time.”

            Scowling, he turned away from her. “I just wanted to…”

            “I know,” she said, nodding. “You wanted revenge. I want it too.”

            Sirius looked back to her.

            “It makes me feel better, doing something,” Lily admitted. “And, I… I want to avenge their deaths. I won’t stop until I do.”

            His smile looked like a disoriented frown. “How do you plan on doing that?”         

            “I don’t know,” she sighed. “But I will. Or I’ll die trying.”

            “You won’t die going after Wormtail,” Sirius scoffed. 

            “I’m not talking about Peter,” she said slowly. “I have to go after someone else.”

            She saw her words’ meaning register in his eyes. “Lily, you can’t—”

            “I can. I’m going to kill Voldemort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope this wasn't too sad... 
> 
> I don’t know if hot dishes are as common a gift for people who’ve just had a loss in Britain (research is tiresome, so I neglected to do any), but over here in the Land of Ten Thousand Casseroles, they’re practically a symbol for it. Any Minnesotans out there will know what I mean... :)


	3. Horcruxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killing Voldemort isn’t as straightforward as killing anyone else.

The Hogwarts castle was just the same as when Lily last saw it. She took her time walking across the grounds and toward the school. The memories came flooding back to her… she could feel their ghostly presence everywhere she looked. There, by the lake—where a deteriorating friendship came to an abrupt end in her fifth year. And not too far from there—where James had first kissed her, under the tree, in their seventh. That memory had to be from someone else’s life. Had she ever known such bliss?

            Class must have been in session, for the halls were deserted. She still knew her way around this place: every trick step, every secret-passage, all of her and James’s favorite hiding places for when they just wanted to be alone… And each one was a stab to her heart. She paused by an alcove, covered by a tapestry. It seemed so long ago that she and James had skipped Charms and sat there, wrapped around each other… that James had whispered three very particular words in her ear… and she had said them right back… and everything had felt so right…

             The portraits watched her in silent curiosity as she continued down the hall. She reached the gargoyle on the second floor and repeated the password from Dumbledore’s letter:

_…P.S. If you ever need me, you know where to find me. And remember—I enjoy Toffee Éclairs._

            The gargoyle moved aside. Lily took a step forward and knocked on the door timidly.

            “Enter,” said Dumbledore’s voice. He sounded tired, but patient. Always patient.  

            Lily turned the door and went into the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, and stood up abruptly when he saw her.

            “Lily,” he said in some surprise. “Is everything alright?”

            She smiled faintly. “Well, I wouldn’t say _everything_ …”

            Dumbledore nodded knowingly. “Of course not.”

            “But I am doing better,” she added, taking a seat across the desk from him.

            He sat back down. “I’m glad to hear it.”

            “I feel better, because I have a purpose,” Lily explained. She had rehearsed this conversation prior to the meeting. The key was to not rush it. The stage had to be properly set before she told him what her plan was.

            “That’s a wise thing to have,” Dumbledore said approvingly. “What is your purpose?”

            “I don’t want James and Harry to have died in vain,” she said quietly.

            Dumbledore’s ancient face darkened. He sighed heavily and removed his spectacles. Lily continued before he could attempt to dissuade her. He seemed to have picked up on where she was going with this earlier than she had bargained for.

            “I’m going to avenge their deaths. It’s the only thing worth doing, and you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

            “I wasn’t going to try to talk you out of it,” he replied. “I’m not so foolish.”

            Lily returned his smile and shifted in her seat.

            “You want to kill Voldemort,” Dumbledore said casually.

            She nodded eagerly, though the words sounded strange. She had never _wanted_ to kill anyone…

            “And you know it won’t be easy…” he continued.

            “Of course I know that,” she said. “I never thought it’d be easy…”

            “But I’m sure you don’t understand just how difficult this will be.”

            “I’m prepared to risk my life… I _want_ to risk my life…” she admitted.

            “It will take more than your Gryffindor courage,” Dumbledore said. “Killing Voldemort isn’t as straightforward as killing anyone else…”

            Lily frowned. “I know it will be hard for me to track him down, and then I’ll probably have to duel him, but—”

            “That’s the least of your worries, for the time being,” he interjected. “As of now, even if you were able to point your wand and Voldemort’s head and say ‘Avada Kedavra,’ it wouldn’t kill him. Not really.”

            Lily could no longer follow. “But—”

            “He’s not a mortal man,” Dumbledore said. “Are you familiar with Horcruxes? A particularly nasty form of dark magic…”

            “Yes, I know about them,” she said dismissively. She was sure he was trying to talk her out of it, but nothing would discourage her now. She was committed. “So, I’ll find the Horcrux first and I’ll destroy it, then I’ll kill him.”

            Dumbledore shook his head despairingly. “I wish it was that easy…”

            “What do you mean?” Lily said in alarm. “I’ll be able to do it, I know I will…”

            “But you see, here’s the problem—Voldemort doesn’t have just one Horcrux.”

 

* * *

 

Lily’s head was still spinning. This was too much information to take in… and none of it made any sense. Dumbledore promised he would explain in due time. For now, all she knew was that there were at least three Horcruxes binding Voldemort to life. In order for him to die, those fragments of his soul had to be destroyed.

            She had severely underestimated how difficult this was going to be. But she didn’t allow herself to think the word ‘impossible.’ Not even once… She would prevail. Good was supposed to prevail, after all. It just might take a little longer than it should.

            Lily reviewed the information she had just been bombarded with: Three or more Horcruxes. One was a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Another, Dumbledore supposed to be a cup that was Helga Hufflepuff’s. The third was likely a ring that belonged to Voldemort’s grandfather. Any others were unknown, though Dumbledore claimed to have some good leads. And he was positive that there were more than three, but he wouldn’t explain why, or how he knew what three of them were. “ _Not tonight,”_ he told her. Lily had been surprised to see the colors of sunset painting the sky out the window.

            Lastly, the location of all the Horcruxes (along with the identity of any additional ones) was anyone’s guess. Lily refused to be realistic or rational. That could only lead to despair and hopelessness. She said to herself, over and over, in efforts to raise her own morale: _How hard could it be?_

            “I’m more than willing to help you along the way, Lily,” Dumbledore said. “I’ll do whatever I can. That includes preparing you as much as possible. For the next couple of weeks, I’d like you to stay here at Hogwarts, so I can properly explain.”

            Lily agreed and thanked him. She stood up to leave after he told her where in the castle she’d be staying.

            “Oh, and Lily,” he added. “If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

            Her face warmed under his piercing gaze. “Thank you. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight,” he said amiably. “Oh—one more thing.”

            Lily giggled and turned again, her hand on the doorknob. Dumbledore’s face was far more serious than she’d expected it to be.

            “Stop by the Potion Master’s office,” he said meaningfully. “There’s someone there who’d be happy to see you.”

 

* * *

 

Lily didn’t know what to expect as she knocked at the Potion Master’s office door. It couldn’t be Slughorn—he was no longer teaching at Hogwarts… But then who could it be? The door opened slowly. It took Lily only a moment to recognize the young man standing across from her. The hooked nose, the thick dark hair, the sharp black eyes… In his face, she saw that he recognized her as well.

            Severus Snape.

            They stared at each other, speechless and frozen. Lily hadn’t seen him since their seventh year at Hogwarts. It didn’t take long for the memories to begin rushing back to her again. This time, though (unlike earlier when she had wandered the corridors of the school), the flashbacks didn’t seem like ghosts from someone else’s life. They were no longer detached from the emotions, as if the presence of her once best friend anchored her to her own life.

            And this time, the memories hit Lily with a crippling blow. She burst into tears.

            She babbled nonsensically, trying to explain herself. Severus still hadn’t moved, and looked rather frightened, understandably. Then he stepped forward, seeming conflicted, and Lily sobbed into his shoulder with no restraint. His hands timidly touched her back and he patted her awkwardly. She quieted for a moment, and moved away from him, struggling to compose herself. She had to explain what happened to her, and why she was here, like a normal, competent person… one who didn’t fall apart at the sight of a familiar face.

            Severus kept adjusting his facial expression uncomfortably, as if he couldn’t decide which emotion was best to convey.

            “Lily,” he said quietly, squeezing her arm. He settled on a devastated, sympathetic look.

            That was all it took. All her resolve melted away and she was sobbing into his robes again; sobbing like she hadn’t in weeks.

            “Lily,” Severus pleaded, massaging her shoulders. “I’m sorry… so sorry… please. Shh. Don’t cry. I’m sorry, Lily…”

            Lily breathed deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm herself. She was sure she had finally overcome this particularly nasty stage. Guess not. Severus led her down the hall a short ways and up out of the dungeons. Lily was having mild difficulty walking, and Severus all but carried her to the spare room she would be staying in.

            “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

            Lily nodded and curled up on the bed, her tears now soaking into the fresh, cold pillow. Severus stood just inside the door, watching her with great concern.

            “Well, if you’re alright, I’m—” he began.

            “Don’t go,” Lily whimpered.

            Severus hesitated only a moment before he went to sit on the edge of the bed. He paused again, before he began to rub her arm again, maintaining a steady rhythm.

            “I’m sorry, Lily,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

            She shook her head and smiled faintly.

            “No, no,” he insisted. “I _really_ am. So sorry…”

            Lily drifted into the welcome oblivion of sleep after some time, the tears still wet on her face, to the sound of Severus’s incessant apologies.

 

* * *

 

Severus Snape had never been so disgusted with himself. Actually, he had never been a fan, but this was an all-time low. Here was this girl, this beautiful young woman, whose life he had personally, albeit unintentionally, ruined. And she had no idea—no clue that the person who now comforted her was the one who’d as good as killed her husband and young son.

            If that wasn’t bad enough, Severus couldn’t help but note how beautiful Lily was as she slept. True, her face was blotchy, her eyes red, her nose running a bit, and her eyelashes heavy with tears… but this was Lily. How could she not look—

            Severus stopped and chastised himself harshly: _You are a terrible person. You are going to hell. If there isn’t a hell, one will be made especially for you._

            “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

            He brushed a finger across Lily’s glistening cheek. Her eyelids fluttered, but she was clearly sound asleep. Severus crouched down on the floor beside the bed, holding her limp hand. Their faces were inches apart.

            “I’m sorry,” he began carefully, “for calling you a Mudblood.”

            Lily didn’t react. Emboldened, he tried again.

            “I’m sorry for… what I did,” he said, chickening out at the last second. But he forced himself to follow through. He had to say this. It might relieve some of the guilt he was drowning in. He leaned over, so her hair was tickling his face, and hovered just above her ear. He inhaled deeply.

            “It’s my fault,” he whispered. “It’s my fault that James and your son are dead. And I am so sorry… but I didn’t know that the prophecy—no. No excuses. What I’ve done is inexcusable. I’m so incredibly sorry, Lily. You know I would never do anything purposefully to hurt you, because I—”

            Severus cut himself off. There were only so many things he was willing to confess to Lily’s unconscious form. He sighed and stood up, tucking the blankets around her, before shutting off the light and leaving the room.


	4. The Deathly Hallows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Invisibility Cloak… the fabled Elder Wand… and, lastly, the Resurrection stone: The one that had most captivated him, and had evaded him longest.

“You must be happy.”

            Severus glanced up at Dumbledore’s bitter words.

            “Sorry?” he said, his face blank.

            “Everything worked out for you, I daresay,” Dumbledore said evenly.

            “What—? No!” Severus argued. “You think I wanted this—Lily so unhappy?”

            “I can’t be sure what you want,” Dumbledore replied. “I don’t know you so well, yet.”

            Severus glowered at him, but didn’t respond. Dumbledore took the opportunity to continue. He was determined to make Severus suffer a little. Merlin knows it would do him some good…

            “Now you can have Lily all to yourself, and—”

            “Don’t,” Severus hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Don’t ever say that again.”

            “The thought has surely crossed your mind,” Dumbledore said casually.

            “What kind of person do you think I am?” Severus demanded, color rising in his face.

            “As I’ve said, I don’t know you so well. But you don’t deny it… you have been thinking it.”

            Severus lowered his eyes. His glaring features softened.

            “But you feel guilty for thinking in that way,” Dumbledore observed. “You’re convinced you’re a terrible person. But, Severus—”

            His eyes flashed and his face hardened again. “Don’t analyze me. You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

            “Ah, but I do…”

            Severus didn’t seem to doubt this, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If only he knew how easy he was to read… but at the same time, he was one of the best Occlumens Dumbledore had ever seen. If he wanted to, he could keep anyone out, even Voldemort, whose Legilimency was not something to make light of.

            “Lily is a remarkable woman,” Dumbledore said conversationally.

            “Yes, I’m aware,” Severus said, a trace of amusement in his eyes and voice.

            “She wants to avenge their deaths,” Dumbledore explained.

            Severus blinked in clear surprise. “You mean, she wants to kill…” he trailed off.

            “Voldemort, yes,” Dumbledore supplied, nodding.

            Severus groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “Can’t you talk her out of it?”

            “I will do no such thing!” he said indignantly. “And you won’t try to dissuade her, either.”

            “What, you’re forbidding me from it?” Severus cocked an eyebrow in a nonverbal challenge.

            “Yes,” Dumbledore said seriously, accepting the challenge. “Yes, I am.”

            The icy blue eyes met the hard black ones, and the two men were opposites in so many ways… Old and young… white hair, black hair… wise and naïve… Dumbledore smiled to himself. He knew Severus wasn’t naïve, not in most ways, but somehow he couldn’t understand the one woman he claimed to love.

            “She can’t possibly believe she can kill the Dark Lord,” Severus said slowly.

            Dumbledore let his silence suffice as an answer.

            “She’ll get killed!”

            “I think she welcomes the possibility.”          

            “You can’t allow her to go on this suicide mission!” Severus protested.

            “There’s no stopping her,” Dumbledore said quietly.

            Severus stared at him, and after a time swallowed audibly and looked down. “If she dies, it will also be my fault.”

            “That’s a bit narcissistic,” Dumbledore mused. “Of course, you can trace anything back to yourself if you’re creative enough.”

            “But this is clearly my fault,” Severus insisted. “If I hadn’t—”

            “Yes, yes, if you hadn’t relayed the prophecy to Voldemort none of this would have happened. There’s no way around that.”

            Severus looked slightly nauseous. “But I didn’t know—”

            Dumbledore cut him off once again; “Why is it that we love to blame ourselves, but as soon as it’s someone else pointing fingers we get defensive?”

            Severus offered no answer to the rhetorical question, and was stubbornly avoiding Dumbledore’s gaze.

            “You know what you have to do,” he said briskly.

            Severus looked up, bewildered. “What?”

            “There’s only one clear option for you at this point.”

            “And what would that be?” Severus said impatiently.

            “Help her,” said Dumbledore simply.

            Severus stared, his mouth slightly open. “You mean… help her… kill the Dark Lord?”

            “Precisely. That’s all, Severus. Have a nice night.” Dumbledore ushered him out of the office before he could protest. _Let him sleep on it_ , Dumbledore thought. _He knows the right thing to do. He still has a conscience, somewhere beneath all his defenses…_

 

* * *

 

Lily’s determination had rejuvenated Dumbledore’s own interest in Horcruxes. He reviewed his collection of memories, all providing insight into the mystery. The most important one was unfortunately incomplete, but he was confident Lily would be able to retrieve the true memory. Regardless, he had enough information to make a move. Early on a Saturday morning, he left the school for a place he had seen only in the memory of another.

            The house was old, dilapidated—it was obvious no one had set foot in it for a very long time. The grass surrounding it was dry and dead and crunched under his shoes. The glass in the windows was shattered and scattered around the yard. The front door hung on its hinges at an odd angle. A withered snakeskin was nailed to the splintered wood of the door.

            Dumbledore entered the house cautiously, his wand raised. “Hemenum Revelio,” he murmured. No one was there, except for him. And a Horcrux. There was a Horcrux here, he could sense it… There had to be… and he knew which one it was; the ring. Marvolo Gaunt’s ring.

            It was here. Somewhere. Dumbledore concentrated; magic always left traces… especially dark magic. But this house had known plenty of sorcery, and witnessed its fair share of the dark arts as well.

            Despite the many lingering paths of spells and curses, Dumbledore could detect something especially sinister beneath his feet, under the floorboards. Instantly, he blasted the floor away. Once the dust cleared, he peered down into the gaping hole.

            And there it was.

            An ancient ring; ornate and elegant; showing no signs of its age. The dim light shone off the smooth stone, bearing an eerily familiar symbol. Dumbledore’s suspicions about the ring’s true origins were confirmed. He knelt to the floor and reached for the ring. It was unnaturally, unsettlingly cold. He had no doubt this was a Horcrux, although he had never come in contact with one before. In all modesty, his instincts tended to be fairly accurate.

            Carefully tucking the ring into the pocket of his robes, he left the long-abandoned Gaunt house and returned to Hogwarts. Safely back in his office, he took out the ring and laid it on the desk. It seemed to quiver slightly whenever he passed his wand near it, as if it feared for its life… definitely a Horcrux. A fragment of Voldemort’s soul was inside it, and apparently aware of Dumbledore’s intent.

            But now there was a new set of problems cropping up—how exactly does one destroy a Horcrux? Unfortunately, no one had written a handbook on the subject… _Horcrux Destruction in Three Easy Steps!_ That would have been helpful.

            It would require extremely powerful magic. That was a safe assumption to make. As he thought, Dumbledore studied the ring, and the symbol upon it in particular. The sign of the Deathly Hallows… It brought back the slightest twinge of nostalgia… and memories best kept forgotten. Then it suddenly brought a heart-stopping realization: All three of the Deathly Hallows were in his office… in his possession.

            Dumbledore rummaged through his desk drawer until he found the Invisibility Cloak, borrowed from James Potter. He clutched his wand, the fabled Elder Wand. And lastly, the Resurrection stone. The one that had most captivated him, and the one that had evaded him the longest.

            Now he had all three, and it was positively overwhelming. He was consumed with the desire to unite them, for the first time in history. Albus Dumbledore; Master of Death… an adolescent dream turned obsession; the sort that blinded him from the manipulating nature of a friend…

            Still, Dumbledore resisted the temptation. The Cloak was draped over his shoulders, the wand in his hand, but he hadn’t yet slipped the ring over his finger. He stood there, deliberating, trying to talk himself out of it. But he knew he was weak… he would give in.

            With trembling hands, Dumbledore lined up his finger with the ring and tried to savor the moment. A sudden sound made him jump and the ring fell to the floor. He whipped off the cloak and sank back into his chair. It was only a knock at his door.

            “Come in,” he called shakily.

            The door opened. “What happened to ‘Enter’? Too formal?” Lily said lightly, a valiant attempt at humor. She used to be so witty… she could make anyone laugh…

            Dumbledore struggled to relax, and to return her smile.

            She noticed. “Are you alright?”

            “Yes, I’m fine,” he said dismissively. “Can I help you?”

            Lily gave him an odd look. “It’s time for our lesson. You know, memories in the Pensieve, and Horcruxes and the like…”

            “Oh right,” Dumbledore said hurriedly. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He bent to pick up the ring from the floor, and set it on the desk between them.

            She gasped. “Is that the ring? The first Horcrux? We’ve already found a Horcrux?”

            She picked up the ring, and her broad smile faltered. She quickly set it back down, clearly unnerved by its icy temperature and faint pulse that Dumbledore was sure he wasn’t only imagining.

            “So, what’s next?” she asked urgently. “How do we destroy it?”

            “I don’t know,” Dumbledore admitted.

            Her face fell. The office was quiet, save for the sound of Fawkes ruffling his feathers.

            “I have a job for you, Lily,” he said suddenly. “An easy one. But ‘easy’ is an extremely relative term…”

            Lily smiled and nodded for him to continue.

            “You need to help me get a memory,” Dumbledore said.

            Her eyes widened. “Oh. From who?”

            “Horace Slughorn,” he said heavily.

            “Slughorn?” she repeated incredulously.

            “I’m sure he’ll give it to you, just ask for the memory. If you slip in the mention of Horcruxes, he’ll know what you’re talking about.”

            Lily nodded unsurely.

            “Once we have that memory, I think you’ll be ready to begin the hunt.”

            She gaped at him. “I’m not ready!”

            “You’ll be as ready as you possibly can be,” he said. His eyes flickered down to the ring on the table. “I’ll look for ways to destroy Horcruxes, but I… I want you to keep this with you.”

            Dumbledore placed the ring in Lily’s reluctant hand. She grimaced and put it back on the table.

            “You can keep it,” she said.

            He chuckled. “No, no, I insist.” _Besides, I don’t trust myself with that thing…_

            Lily sighed and placed the ring in her pocket.

            “I advise you not wear it until it’s been killed, but keep it on you,” he instructed. “And one more thing…”

            Dumbledore shook out the Invisibility Cloak and handed it across the table to Lily. The second Hallow he would deny himself… Lily’s eyes were watering as she stroked the shimmering fabric of the Cloak.

            “Thank you,” she squeaked, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. She wiped it away, and stood up. “Goodnight.”

            Dumbledore smiled warmly and wished her a goodnight in return. She left the office, taking two thirds of the Deathly Hallows with her. But that was how it should be: Dumbledore didn’t trust himself with anything more than the Elder Wand. And he claimed he kept that only to protect others from its power. But if that was really his only intent, he would’ve destroyed it long ago, when it first befell him.

            No, he couldn’t fall prey to delusions of self-righteousness. He kept it for himself because he wanted it—he wanted the power. Whenever he considered destroying it, he couldn’t bring himself to. It was a Hallow—a piece of Wizarding lore. And it was his wand. He was accustomed to it; to being… undefeatable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing Dumbledore's POV is literally the hardest thing ever and it's not going to happen again in this story so don't worry about any more of this awkwardness. The hunt begins next chapter, so stick around!


	5. The Dark Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the hideous skull and snake, chillingly familiar, tattooed into his pale skin.

As she knocked on the door, Lily made up her mind that she wasn’t going to stall or go about things indirectly—she was going to get this memory from Slughorn in as little time as was necessary, then leave. It was the only thing left to do before she could start the Horcrux hunt.

           

Slughorn was, of course, surprised to see her: “Lily? What’s wrong?”

           

She paused—did she look upset, or was he only assuming there had to be a good reason for her to show up at his house? The second option was likely enough, she decided.

           

“Just the usual,” she answered, and his expression darkened. “Can I come in?”

           

 “Of course.” Slughorn stepped aside, allowing her to enter. Lily moved through the living room slowly, and was drawn to something familiar. She crouched down beside the coffee table. Upon it, there was a glass bowl full of water. A small fish with shimmering scales suspended itself in the center of the bowl, treading the water slowly with its delicate fins.

           

Lily smiled and touched the glass gently with the tips of her fingers.

           

“I named him Francis,” Slughorn said softly from behind her. “A remarkable work of magic, he is.”

           

She nodded and stood up, tearing her gaze away from the fish. “I have to ask you about something.”

           

“Care for some tea?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her. But his smile was too tightly stretched across his face.

           

“No, thank you,” she replied. “I need you to help me—”

           

“I have coffee, too. Or hot cocoa,” he continued. “Butterbeer, if you like…”

           

He escaped the living room into the kitchen. Lily followed—did he know what she was going to ask about? Was that why he was so nervous? What was this memory, anyway?

           

“Professor… Professor!” she said, causing him to stop.

           

“I’m not your teacher anymore, Lily, you can call me Horace,” he said after a brief hesitation.

           

“Alright, Horace,” Lily sighed. “I need your help.”

           

Slughorn remained quiet, but was fidgeting ever so slightly. She continued.

 

“I need to get a memory from you.”

   

His surprise was obviously feigned. “A memory?” he repeated, smiling much too widely for it to be natural. “What memory? Did Dumbledore put you up to this?”

           

The last sentence came out sounding more like an accusation than a cheerful inquisition.

           

“Yes,” Lily admitted, her tone and stance suggesting a challenge. “Yes, he did.”

           

They stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment. Slughorn suddenly coughed, and averted his eyes.

           

“I can’t help you, Lily.”

           

“But, Horace—”

           

“I can’t help you,” he said again, louder.

           

“You have to,” Lily pleaded. “I don’t know what the memory is, but Dumbledore says—”

           

“You don’t know what the memory is?” Slughorn cut her off, his eyes wide. “You don’t know what I did?”

           

“No,” she said, beginning to wonder in earnest why he was so protective of this memory. “But it can’t be that bad.”

           

“It is,” he insisted. “If you knew, you would blame everything on me—”

           

“That’s ridiculous,” Lily scoffed. “Besides, if you’ll give me the memory than I’ll be able to kill Voldemort.”

           

His jaw literally dropped. “Wait—you can’t— but—it’s not— no!” he sputtered. “You can’t kill You-Know-Who, with or without the memory!”

           

“But it’s worth a shot.”

           

Slughorn shook his head adamantly. “You don’t understand, Lily.”

           

“I know he has Horcruxes,” she said. “I know it’s going to be difficult.”

           

He was still moving his head back and forth stubbornly. “That’s a severe understatement.”         

           

“I know,” she said dismissively. “But I still need the memory.”

 

Lily could tell Slughorn was giving in by the sound of his sigh, and the way his face fell. “Fine,” he said, extracting his wand from his pocket. He touched the tip of it to his temple and a long, silvery strand came from his skin, twisted around the wand. Lily eagerly captured it in a vial and capped it. The memory floated inside the glass, too tangible to be a vapor, too fluid to be a solid, yet too opaque to be a liquid.

           

“Thank you,” she said in some relief, slipping the vial into her pocket. “Goodnight.”

           

Lily made for the door, but Slughorn stopped her. “Just remember… I didn’t know.”

           

She nodded at his vague words that only piqued her curiosity about what the memory contained. Absently assuring him that she didn’t blame him, she left the house and Disapparated just beyond the door frame.

 

* * *

 

Lily rose out of the Pensieve and the headmaster’s office rematerialized around her. She looked anxiously to Dumbledore, who had a grave expression on his face.

           

“Six Horcruxes,” he said. “Voldemort has six Horcruxes.”

           

The office was in silence. The portraits of previous headmasters were too quiet for their feigned sleep to be believable. Fawkes was perfectly, unnaturally still on his perch.

           

“Marvolo Gaunt’s ring,” Lily said, her voice ringing strangely in the room. Her hand found the cold surface of the ring in her pocket.

           

Dumbledore seemed to catch on, and added to her inventory: “Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.”

           

“And Salazar Slytherin’s locket,” she finished. “Any other ideas?”

           

“Perhaps something belonging to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. And one more… something significant to Voldemort, I’m sure. A trophy of some sort… a memento.”

           

Lily nodded, the wheels in her mind turning. “Something of Gryffindor’s…” she mused. Her eyes found the magnificent sword, encased on the wall behind the desk.

           

“No, the sword isn’t a Horcrux.” Dumbledore smiled patiently.

           

“Of course not,” she said quickly, warmth coming to her cheeks. What was she thinking? One of Voldemort’s Horcruxes wouldn’t just be hanging up above the headmaster’s desk at Hogwarts! That only reminded her that she had no idea where the Horcruxes would be. They could be anywhere in the world… For the first time, Lily realized the true magnitude of what she was trying to do. Some sort of high-stakes scavenger hunt.

           

“I’m sorry I can’t help you any more right now,” Dumbledore said.

           

“No, no, you’ve done enough,” she assured him. “I feel ready.”

           

It wasn’t really a lie. She did feel ready. She had been ready emotionally to kill Voldemort since the night he killed her family. But in actuality, she was not prepared in the least for her mission. She didn’t want to admit this to Dumbledore, but of course he knew. Maybe he knew she was only going to be wandering around Great Britain for however long, and figured that at least she’d be safe. And she would think she was doing something to help. To avenge James’s and Harry’s deaths. 

           

Lily felt a sudden surge of resentment toward Dumbledore for things she only suspected he was thinking. That was when she knew if she didn’t do something soon, she would lose it.

           

“I’ll start the hunt tomorrow,” Lily announced.

 

* * *

 

People always said “when there’s a will, there’s a way.” Lily found this difficult to believe. She wanted so badly to find and destroy these Horcruxes and then kill Voldemort, but that was, by all accounts, impossible.

 

Her bags were packed—or one bag, rather, with an impressive undetectable extension charm—but she had no idea where to begin. So she stalled for a few days, hiding out in her room, pretending that she was sick, or still in the process of packing. For some reason, it really irked her that no one called her out on this. Everyone went along with her whims so patiently, like she was mentally unstable and they were her doctors.

 

Finally, Lily admitted to herself that waiting wasn’t going to solve anything, so she decided to leave before she lost her nerve.  She grabbed her bag early in the morning and was ready to make a run for it. But when she turned the corner just outside her room, she ran directly into Severus.

 

“Oh, there you are, Lily,” he stammered, awkwardly fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. “I was just looking for you.”

 

She sighed; her resolve was melting… all she wanted now was to stay here at Hogwarts where it was safe and comfortable. “Well, you found me.”

 

Severus nodded, and looked around as if hoping someone would come to his assistance. “You’re up early,” he said after a time.

 

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Yes… I was just leaving.”

 

“For the Horcrux Hunt?”

 

She choked on the farewell she was about to give him, and ended up making an odd coughing noise. “How do you know about that?” she asked in a low voice, even though there was no one there to hear her.

 

“Dumbledore told me,” he answered quickly. “It looks like I came just in time.”

 

She scowled. “If you’re going to try and talk me out of it, then—”

 

Severus cut her off; “No, no, not at all. I’m coming with you.”

 

* * *

 

At first, Lily was completely in shock at the prospect of Severus joining her on the Hunt. Then she became comfortable with the idea—it would be nice to have company and some help, besides. Now, she had come full circle and was wishing she was alone.

 

It wasn’t anything to do with Severus. He was helpful and patient and everything Lily could expect him to be under the circumstances. And the circumstances were trying, to say the least. It had only taken a few days for Lily to realize just how very clueless she was. They’d been wandering aimlessly for nearly two weeks, setting up camp in one location for a day and then moving on the next. Through it all, Severus made no comment. He didn’t complain that Lily obviously had no idea what she was doing. He didn’t abandon her.

 

The whole situation was quite embarrassing for Lily, and there was no end in sight. It seemed that Voldemort himself would sooner destroy his own Horcruxes than would Lily make any progress.

 

“Where to next?” Severus asked one particular morning, like he always did. There was absolutely nothing mocking in his tone of voice—he was completely sincere. And this, as almost everything did nowadays, really annoyed her.

 

“I don’t know,” she snapped, rolling over in her sleeping bag. She spent more and more time each day just lying there, uneager to do anything. Where did all her energy go?

 

“Well,” Severus said, just as patient as ever, “let’s consult the map.”

 

He pulled out a worn map of Great Britain. There were already little red X’s all over the area nearest to Hogwarts. So many places they’d gone to and none of them any good.

 

“I believe it’s your turn,” he said.

 

Lily groaned quietly, and stretched a hand behind her until she felt the map. She blindly picked a spot on the paper. “There. Let’s go there.”

 

She reburied her face into the blankets for a moment, until she heard a faint chuckle from Severus. She sat up and glared at him. He recoiled a little, the smile disappearing from his face.

 

“What’s so funny?” she hissed.

 

“Nothing, you just pointed to the middle of the English Channel. I mean, I’ve no objection to it, but I don’t think our tent will hold up, unless you’ve got a boat in there…” Severus gestured to her small bag in which they kept everything—their clothes, tent, food… everything they had brought with them.

 

There was no smile on his earnest face, but Lily was vaguely aware that he was joking. It seemed like the strangest thing in the world. When was the last time she had joked around with someone?  Had she laughed since James and Harry had died? She couldn’t remember. She hoped she hadn’t.

 

“Why don’t you pick a place? You never do,” Lily suggested.

 

Severus frowned and looked down at the map. “I wouldn’t know where to go.”

 

“Neither do I,” she mumbled, hugging a pillow to her chest.

 

He bit his lip, and began to trace lines between the red X’s on the map, as if he was trying to find a pattern. “It’s not my Hunt, anyway,” he muttered, risking a glance at her.

 

Lily bristled. “I thought you wanted to come with.”

 

“No, I did… I mean, I do, but—”

 

“No one’s making you stay. You’re free to go,” she huffed, and then sat back stubbornly, waiting for him to make the smallest move that might suggest he was going to take her up on the offer.

 

He stared back at her for an uncomfortable length of time. “I’m still here, Lily.”

 

She made no response, and carefully avoided his eyes. Eventually, Severus sighed and turned back to the map. “Let’s see… How about… here?”

 

His finger was on a spot not too far from where they currently were. Lily shrugged indifferently.

 

“Is that a yes?” he pressed, his voice betraying the tiniest hint of impatience. For some reason, Lily considered it a victory. He could only put up with her for so long, like everyone else. She didn’t know why she was so determined to be like this, but it was easier than the alternative.

 

Severus exhaled heavily again. “You have to work with me, Lily. I want to help you, but—”

 

“Fine, then,” she interrupted. “Let’s go. Why not?”

 

He blinked and paused, as if waiting for her to cool off, but it was his only reaction. None of this decreased Lily’s irritation. Severus seemed about to respond when he suddenly clutched his left forearm with his other hand. His eyes were wide, his face white, his mouth frozen open. It all added up to an expression of unmistakable terror. A moment was all Lily needed to form a good guess as to what was happening.

 

“Severus…” she began, reaching out toward him.

 

He jerked away, maintaining a death-grip on his own arm.

 

“Lily, I—” he tried, but his voice was too constricted to continue. Besides, there was clearly no explanation. Lily moved across the small tent and took his wrist. He didn’t fight it. Slowly, she loosened his fingers while he looked on helplessly. Then she rolled up the sleeve and the mark was revealed almost immediately. It was exactly what she’d expected to find, but shocking all the same.

 

It was the hideous skull and snake, chillingly familiar, tattooed into his pale skin. But the Mark was a smoldering black color, like embers. When she’d been rolling up his sleeve, her fingers had brushed against it, and she’d felt how hot it was. The Dark Mark was burning, right inside his arm.

 

“Lily, I’m—I’m—”

 

“I know,” she said briskly. “You’re a Death Eater.”

 

Severus winced. “Was,” he added in a voice nearing a whisper. “Was a Death Eater.”

 

“Doesn’t make much difference, though, does it?” she challenged.

 

He didn’t answer, but stared at the Mark on his arm. There was something in his face that she couldn’t quite read… then it hit her.

 

“You want to go!” she accused, springing to her feet. “You want to go back to your old Death Eater friends!”

 

The notion obviously shocked him. “No!” he managed to say after a couple moments of incoherent sputtering. “I don’t want to go, but… I have to.”

 

This only stopped Lily up for a second, before she fired back. “Why? You’re afraid for your life? You have to keep crawling back to them to save your skin? You’re a coward.”

 

Something she said seemed to resonate with him. He also jumped to his feet, and looked equally angry; his fist clenched at his side, his eyes narrowed.

 

“If you’d give me a chance to explain, I think you’ll take back what you just said.” His words were calm, reasonable ones, but the snarl on his face was all that registered with Lily and she fed off his anger.

 

“What do you need to explain?” she cried. “You’re a Death Eater! That’s why you were so eager to come with me, isn’t it? So you could make sure I’d never get anywhere!”

 

“I’m not a Death Eater!” he shouted back. “I’m a spy!”

 

His words hung in the air between them, and Lily was completely caught off guard by them. Her hesitation provided him with the chance to continue.

 

“I was a Death Eater, but now I’m a double agent—ask Dumbledore, it was his idea. So that means whenever the Dark Mark burns I have to go, so the Dark Lord will still trust me. Does that make sense to you? Will you stop accusing me now?”

 

Lily was too confused for what he was saying to fully sink in. All she knew was what she had to say.  She offered her best apologetic smile.

 

“Sev, I’m so—”

 

“Save your breath,” he said, cutting her off. He Disapparated, leaving Lily feeling like she had been slapped across the face.


	6. Malfoy Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hard times are over. The enemies are defeated. The Order of the Phoenix is all but destroyed. They have no rallying point now that their false-savior, the boy, is dead. No hope. No chance.

Severus didn’t know how much longer he could deal with this: the risk, and constant danger; the anxiety. At times, he was convinced Voldemort knew the truth. It seemed impossible to mislead him for this long. Surely, Voldemort was just playing along, biding his time, until he decided to kill Severus, the traitor. Every moment Severus spent in the company of Voldemort could very well be his last. It was not a particularly enjoyable experience.

And now he was exposing himself to that again. He lengthened his strides as he approached Malfoy Manor. There was no one outside besides him—and several peacocks. These weren’t ordinary peacocks. They were a strange albino variety… their beady red eyes followed him, though the rest of their bodies remained unnaturally still. Severus quickened his pace to a jog the rest of the way to the mansion. The giant doors parted before him and he slowed again, entering cautiously.

The doors closed behind him, and the sound echoed in the large entrance hall. Severus strained his ears, until he was sure he heard voices coming from down the hall. They couldn’t all be here already… Lily couldn’t have held him up _that_ long… Severus hurried in the direction of the voices, hoping the strange acoustics of Malfoy Manor weren’t deceiving him. Fortunately, he soon came upon the meeting room.

There was a long, narrow table in the center of the room, surrounded on both sides by sober-faced, dark-clothed Death Eaters. They glanced to him, their reactions ranging from surprise to relief to disapproval. At the head of the table stood Voldemort himself. His presence gave the impression that the room lacked oxygen. It didn’t help that Voldemort’s dark eyes—which glowed slightly crimson in the light—were boring into Severus’s.

It was all instinct now. Severus focused his gaze just above Voldemort’s eyes, and kept his mind as blank as possible. It seemed, at times, that that was all he could do. Put up his weak defenses and hope for the best.

“Thanks for joining us,” Voldemort said, his cruel smile affecting the sound of his words.

“I apologize, my Lord,” Severus said, bowing his head slightly. “Dumbledore kept me—”

“Hmph!”

Everyone turned toward the indignant sound, which, unsurprisingly, had been issued from Bellatrix Lestrange. Her arms were folded across her chest and she positively radiated self-assured superiority.

Voldemort gave a rough approximation of a patient smile to his favorite little Bella.

“Bellatrix,” he said in a pleasant tone, “you know that Snape has to keep Dumbledore’s trust…” He turned away from the scowling Death Eater and back to Severus. “You _have_ kept his trust, haven’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Severus answered coolly. “He trusts me more than ever.”

Voldemort clasped his hands together like a gleeful madman. Which, Severus supposed, was precisely what he was oftentimes.

“Perfect,” Voldemort said in a low voice, nearing a purr, or, more accurately, a serpentine hiss. “You have served us well.”

Severus made the mistake of meeting Voldemort’s eyes for a split second. He realized why Voldemort was such a talented Legilmens. It wasn’t his magical ability, though that certainly helped, it was the hypnotizing quality of his eyes. It was very difficult to look away, no matter how frightening they were. Finally, Voldemort turned away. Severus took a seat, next to Lucius Malfoy, and across from Bellatrix who had always been rather conspicuous about her distastes. Today was no different—she glared at Severus with a burning intensity. He only smiled warmly back at her every time they met eyes, quite enjoying the little game.

Voldemort, pacing back and forth at the head of the table, addressed the large group.

“As I was saying earlier, I have successfully killed the Potter boy.”

Severus tensed as dozens of eyes fell upon him.

“And thank you, Severus,” Voldemort continued, “for telling me of the prophecy.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course. It is my greatest honor.”

“As it should be,” Voldemort said approvingly. “For now… I am invincible.”

A hush fell over the room. Not that it hadn’t been quiet before, but now no one breathed, or tapped their wands against their legs, or shifted in their seats. Everyone seemed somewhat unsettled by the announcement. Except for Bellatrix, of course. She appeared ready to jump for joy. _What a strange sight that would be_ , Severus thought in amusement while he appraised the dark, deathly serious woman across from him.

“And that means that we are invincible. The hard times are over. The enemies are defeated. The Order of the Phoenix is all but destroyed. They have no rallying point now that their false-savior, the boy, is dead. No hope. No chance.”

Severus felt as if a weight had been dropped on his shoulders, crushing him to the ground. Of course there was no chance… he had always known that. Then why was it so depressing to hear it out loud? Severus caught himself—his thoughts were drifting into dangerous territory. He redirected them. He was a loyal Death Eater… not a double-agent who was on a Horcrux Hunt with the ultimate goal of killing Voldemort.

Suddenly, he realized that Voldemort was looking at him. He quickly sealed off his mind—it felt somewhat like putting his head under water, or plugging his ears. That was how he knew it was working. With renewed confidence, he waited for Voldemort to address him. Severus found he knew what Voldemort was going to say a second before he did—like the tables had been turned. Like Severus was the Legilmens.

“I left the Mudblood for you, Severus,” Voldemort said. “The girl. She is very lucky to be alive… Make good use of her.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Severus replied, neither his voice nor his facial expression betraying any emotion, although he was boiling inside. These were the times when he almost enjoyed himself—when he was completely in control. It was empowering; an adrenaline rush like no other. He met eyes with Voldemort, and he could feel his mind being penetrated. But Voldemort would only see what Severus wanted him to see. And that meant a whole host of fake memories and thoughts that Severus kept at the ready; little snippets of Severus being a good little Death Eater.

Apparently satisfied, Voldemort left Severus’s brain alone to discuss other matters.

“Lucius, Narcissa,” he said suddenly.

They both jumped visibly. Narcissa in particular was even paler than usual—her blue eyes were round.

“Yes, my Lord?” Lucius said quietly. Severus, being so close to him, could hear how uneven his breath was.

“It’s the first time we’ve all gathered here in quite some time, isn’t it?” Voldemort continued.

“Uh, yes, I believe so,” Lucius said unsurely, as if it was a trick question.

“I’m sure it’s been over a year…”

Lucius nodded slowly. Narcissa was perfectly motionless, resembling a porcelain doll more than ever. 

Voldemort sighed in clear frustration. “Your son. I haven’t yet seen him.”

“He’s sleeping,” Narcissa squeaked. Severus saw Lucius touch her leg under the table in an obvious effort to get her to shut up. She obliged. 

“We’ll take you to him,” Lucius said, standing up. Everyone else cautiously followed suit, and Voldemort went eagerly to Lucius’s side.

“Come along, everyone. A new pureblood is invaluable in this day and age.”

As the Death Eaters began parading down the halls, Bellatrix yanked her husband aside and whispered in his ear—probably something along the lines of; _we need to make a whole bunch of little pureblood babies so I can be the Dark Lord’s favorite again!_

Severus couldn’t help but smile to himself—it seemed exactly the kind of thing Bellatrix would say to poor Rodolphus.

After a long trek through Malfoy Manor, they came to a dark, spacious rom. There wasn’t much in the room, besides a strange, antique-looking cradle. It didn’t look like a comfortable place for a baby, what with its wrought-iron legs and bars.

“He’s sleeping,” Narciss said helplessly as they gathered around the cradle. Her plea was ignored.

There was a sleeping toddler in the cradle. He looked perfectly healthy despite the paleness of his skin. The thin hair on his head was bleach-blond; nearly white—much like the hair of an elderly man, though much shinier and silkier.

“His name is Draco,” Lucius said, his eyes moving between his son and Voldemort. The latter was looking at little Draco with a disturbing hunger in his eyes. Without asking permission, Voldemort reached his thin, spidery hands toward the baby. Narcissa’s small cry of protest was ignored.

Draco’s eyes fluttered open at that moment, and he, understandably, began to cry—loudly. Voldemort didn’t attempt to hide his distaste. In fact, he drew his wand.

“ _Silencio_ ,” he said. Tears continued to roll down Draco’s blotchy cheeks, but his sobs went unheard.

Severus sighed in relief, in unison with Narcissa and Lucius. Voldemort had killed one baby recently—what would prevent him from doing it again?

Voldemort and his Death Eaters formed a line to take turns holding the sufficiently silenced Draco. Severus, thoroughly disgusted, snuck away, out of the room. He soon realized how unfamiliar he was with Malfoy Manor when he found himself quite lost in the labyrinth of corridors. He had been trying to get back to the entrance hall… maybe if he retraced his steps... was he going in circles? That portrait looked familiar…

Many wrong turns later, Severus was in a rather small room. Small for Malfoy Manor, anyway. Or maybe it was all the stuff in the room that made it feel cramped.  Severus thought that if the Malfoys were to spread out everything in this particular room, dispersing it throughout the mansion, their home would feel less… depressing. Severus really wasn’t interested in snooping—it was just Lucius Malfoy’s possessions, anyway—but this room appeared to have been furnished exclusively by Borgin and Burke’s. Every object was darker and more sinister than the one next to it. Curiosity getting the best of him, Severus began to examine the artifacts upon the desk. There were glass eyes, a creepy mask—it’s eyes seemed to follow him, something that looked very much like an instrument of torture, and a very peculiar little book; leather-bound, old and dusty. It was only peculiar in that it was entirely ordinary, and therefore stuck out among the rest. Eagerly, Severus opened it. His head stopped instantly.

The book, in an elegant script, proclaimed itself to be the diary of Tom Riddle. Without thinking, Severus pocketed it and hurried out of the room.

Was he imagining it, or was the book a few vital degrees below room temperature? It had a faint pulse, too… or, perhaps, that was his own heartbeat. He increased his speed in the narrow, unfamiliar hallway and barreled around the corner—running smack into someone coming from the opposite direction.

“Severus?” said a soft, tremulous voice. It was Narcissa.

“Oh, I was just… going to the bathroom,” he said unconvincingly.

Narcissa didn’t seem to notice or care. “You’re lost, aren’t you?” she asked with a faint smile.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Good thing I ran into you.”

She began leading him down the hall. “To be honest, I still get lost sometimes. I mean, this place is so big… I don’t see why we have to live here—why we can’t get a nice little house in the country somewhere…”

Severus had a sinking feeling in his stomach as Narcissa’s voice grew more and more hysterical. He didn’t know how to deal with an emotional breakdown… He sympathized with Narcissa, even liked her—she was downright pleasant compared to a certain sister of hers—but that didn’t mean he wanted to comfort her. His recent experiences with Lily had taught him that women are very… fragile sometimes.

Narcissa had stopped and was leaning against the wall, still facing away from him.

“And when Draco starts walking,” she continued, “he’ll wander off and get lost and we’ll never find him…”

She choked on the last word and buried her face in her hands. Severus timidly patted her shoulder, seeing no other option.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“Of course I’m not alright” she snapped, whirling around.

He drew back, startled. She fell back against the wall again.

“I just…” she continued, “I just can’t take it anymore.”

Severus gulped. “What can’t you take anymore?” he prompted kindly.

“All of it!” she cried. “All of it… I can’t… I can’t…”

Suddenly, Narcissa’s face became impassive and blank, as if sealed off. The redness of her eyes was the only clue to any emotion. Severus realized that this was how she survived.

“Sorry,” she said stiffly, before leading him back to the entrance hall in silence.

 

* * *

 

Severus left Malfoy Manor the first chance he had without being suspicious. He Apparated back to the forest where he and Lily had been camping. The diary felt heavy in his pocket and he was still on an adrenaline rush from having stolen it. Of course, it was unlikely it was a Horcrux, but it had belonged to Voldemort at some point… It had to have. How many Tom Riddles were there, anyway?

The tent was still there, just where it had been. His excitement mounted as he approached it.

“Lily! Lily!” Severus called.

She ducked her head out of the tent, her wand at the ready. He grinned.

“It’s me,” he said, holding his arms up defensively. She, for some reason, looked surprised to see him. Then he remembered what had gone down between them just before he’d left hours ago. She must’ve assumed he wouldn’t come back. This gave him pause, but only for a moment. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

Severus pulled the diary out of his pocket and thrust it at Lily.

“Look what I found!”

She didn’t seem impressed as she appraised it. “A book?”

“Open it!”

She gave him a questioning look before opening the diary. Severus watched as her eyes widened—she read the words over and over before glancing up to him.

“Is this…?”

“A Horcrux?” Severus supplied. “It might be.”

“Well…” Lily said, flipping through the pages. Then she set the diary down on the ground and drew her wand. “ _Reducto_!”

The diary was completely unaffected by the spell, though it was blasted up into the air. It landed on the grass several feet away, perfectly intact.

“That would’ve destroyed an ordinary diary, wouldn’t it have?” she said slowly.

Severus was only able to give a brief nod, before she was hugging him while bouncing up and down in excitement. He was knocked off balance and they tumbled down onto the ground, side by side.

“Oops, sorry,” Lily giggled, dusting herself off. She was grinning broadly, like she used to, back when they were in school. She had been so happy… and Severus had ruined that for her.

She seemed to notice his serious expression.

“What’s wrong, Sev?” she said. Her eyes were so bright and green that he temporarily lost his train of thought. Severus quickly came up with an excuse for his sobriety.

“I don’t want you to think it’s going to be like this,” he said.

“Like what?” she asked, reaching to brush a leaf out of his hair.

Severus drew in a deep breath. Did she not understand what kind of effect she had on him?

“I don’t want you to think this is going to be easy,” he explained.

Lily rolled her eyes. “I _know_ that.” She paused, deliberating. “But we _have_ already found two Horcruxes. There are only four left now.”

Severus couldn’t help but smile at her optimism. He decided to let it go for now. Truth was, they were making excellent progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think so far... next chapter will be Sirius's POV.


	7. Fiendfyre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want you to know that I could kill you and get off scot-free. There’s so much chaos around these days, who would notice? Who would miss you?

Sirius wasn’t going to let him escape this time. Another crushing defeat like the last would be more than he could bear. So this time he set certain rules for himself; no messing around. No dramatics.

Everything that Sirius had to say to Peter had been said. The only thing left to do was capture him and not let him escape. As long as Sirius didn’t get carried away, it would all turn out. Just then, the door to the apartment opened. He marveled inwardly at just how stupid Peter was.

“Hey, Wormtail,” Sirius greeted, and then placed a solid, forceful punch over Peter’s eye. Peter probably didn’t know what was going on, and Sirius didn’t give him any time to figure it out: He stunned him as he crumpled to the ground. Sirius closed the door behind him and stepped back to admire his work.

“Far more efficient than last time, eh?” he said to the bloodied and stunned Peter. “But I’m not going to underestimate you… You aren’t a complete git all the time.” Sirius found Peter’s wand and confiscated it. “Just in case you try to pull a fast-one,” he explained, twirling Peter’s wand between his fingers. “I shouldn’t have stunned you. I suppose it’d be better if I’d petrified you because then you’d be able to hear what I’m saying.”

Sirius mulled over this, all the while vocalizing his thoughts, and asking the unconscious Peter for input. This made it all the more amusing. Finally, he came to a decision.

“ _Rennervate_. _Petrificus Totalus_.”

Peter was stiff as a board on the floor, completely immobilized.

“That’s better,” Sirius said, leaning over Peter. “Can you hear me? Can you see me? Blink if you can… oh, right you can’t blink. But I know you can hear me. Your eye might be a bit too swollen for you to see me, though. It’s an effective curse, isn’t it? I wonder how long it would take to wear off… If I just left you here, no one would find you, of course. Which do you think would happen first? Would the curse wear off, or would starve to death? Well, I suppose, you’d dehydrate before you’d starve…”

Sirius caught himself. _Right. No dramatics._ Besides, there was something very unsatisfactory about threatening someone so unresponsive. But then again…

“Relax, Wormy,” Sirius said. “Loosen up. You seem sort of… tense.” He laughed at his own joke. “Sorry, I’m having too much fun. This is an amusing situation for me, I must say. Quite favorable conditions. Here I am, with two wands, and there you are, lying on the floor, unable to escape or defend yourself in any way. Do you find this comical, or am I the only one?”

Sirius waited as though Peter might respond. Of course, he didn’t.

“No? Well, I’m having a jolly good time, thank you very much. Now, what to do with you… I suppose I have several options. The easiest one would be to put you on trial and send you to Azkaban. Actually, they don’t do many trials these days, so you’d go straight to the dementors. You could be there by lunchtime tomorrow. But I have a problem with this first option…”

Sirius knelt next to Peter and leaned down so their faces were mere inches apart. _To hell with no dramatics…_

“You see, I’ve always been a fan of vigilante justice. And you’ve done me a personal wrong. I want you to know that I could kill you and get off scot-free. There’s so much chaos around these days, who would notice? Who would miss _you_?”

He sat back, and looked around the apartment room for a moment, giving his rhetorical question ample time to sink in. He opted to not tell Peter one crucial fact: Sirius doubted he could actually kill someone, let alone someone he’d known for so long. Peter may have been a traitor now, but first he had been a friend.

So, he wordlessly took hold of Peter’s arm and Apparated both of them to the only place he could think of.

 

* * *

 

 “I will not keep a hostage in the school!” Dumbledore said, rapidly looking back and forth between Sirius and the petrified, black-eyed and bloodied Peter.

“He’s not a hostage, per se,” Sirius said. “That entails that I would give him back to someone for a price. Consider him more of a prisoner. Like a POW.”

Dumbledore was shaking his head adamantly. “Absolutely not… Take him to the Ministry and turn him in.”

“But that’s no fun!” Sirius blurted, realizing that he sounded like his teenage self again, arguing with Dumbledore about various school rules.

“This isn’t supposed to be _fun_ ,” Dumbledore said. “I can’t believe that you would bring him here in the first place. What were you thinking?”

Sirius grinned. “This is me we’re talking about, right?”

Dumbledore sighed. “So I’m to presume you weren’t thinking?”

“Of course not,” he said dismissively. “But just hear me out—this is the _traitor_. He’s the one who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort.”

“And he deserves to go to Azkaban,” Dumbledore insisted.

“Doesn’t that seem like a light punishment?” Sirius challenged.

“What would you suggest is more fitting? Feeding him to the giant squid?”

“I didn’t think of that…” Sirius smiled mischievously.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore said strictly, wiping the grin from Sirius’s face. “Take Peter to the Ministry now. I will not tolerate this.”

“Please, sir,” Sirius implored. “He might know something. Can’t we just keep him here temporarily? What if he knows about the Horcruxes?”

He could see that Dumbledore was giving this serious consideration. Sirius had always known how to get his way with the headmaster. You just had to know how to talk to him…

“I’ll give you one week,” Dumbledore said finally.

 

* * *

 

 Understandably, Dumbledore was surprised when Sirius didn’t want to interrogate Peter immediately. But Sirius doubted Peter would be of much help, and he wanted to go tell Lily of his success. Dumbledore told him where she was, and he left as soon as Peter was secured inside a rat-proof room. Sirius had had to tell Dumbledore about the Animagus situation. He seemed only a little surprised, mostly impressed, and promised to keep a close watch.

Sirius was now in a strange forest and was squinting through the haze and trees, searching for a tent.

“Lily?” he called. “It’s me, Sirius. Lily?”

He waited for a while—no response. He called again in a different direction. After several minutes, he was beginning to wonder whether he was in the right place, or if they had moved on already.

“Sirius?” said a voice from behind him.

He turned around and was instantly confused. There was Lily, but… there was another person next to her. He had long black hair and a hooked nose… Sirius felt the familiar enmity burning in his chest before he fully realized who this man was.

“Snivellus,” he snarled.

Snape was glaring back at him just as harshly. “What is _he_ doing here?” he hissed at Lily.

“I could ask the same thing,” Sirius said.

Lily, looking rather nervous, moved between them. “Guys, calm down. We’re all on the same side now.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sirius argued.

Lily sighed. “Sirius, Sev had been helping me with the Horcrux Hunt.”

Only one word registered with him. “You’re calling him ‘Sev’ again? Have you forgotten what he did to you? What he said to you?”

Snape’s face grew even paler as he trembled with rage. Yet he remained silent.

“Honestly, Sirius, forget about your silly school-boy grudge. This is about avenging James and—”

“How exactly are you avenging his death, anyway? By hanging around with the one person he always _despised_?”

“That’s a little dramatic. Sure they didn’t like each other, but—”

“No, Lily, they hated each other. Apparently you didn’t know James so well after all.”

Suddenly, something smacked Sirius hard in the side of the face—really hard. He fell to the ground with a thud, feeling rather light-headed. He tasted blood in his mouth.

“Sev, you shouldn’t’ve punched him. That’s really not going to help this.”

“You think I was going to let him talk to you like that?”

“Please, I could’ve handled that myself. I was getting ready to give him a nice slap round the face, but you beat me to it.”

Snape chuckled.

Sirius picked himself up off the ground, holding his throbbing jaw. Lily narrowed her eyes when she saw him.

“If you ever say anything like that again, I’ll blacken your other eye. Permanently,” she threatened.

Sirius didn’t doubt that. “I’m sorry, Lily, I—”

“You better be. I mean, I bloody married him! I knew him a little better than you did. So let’s be clear—James didn’t hate Severus. He was just irrationally jealous.”

“Jealous?!” Sirius and Snape blurted in unison.

“Of me?” Snape sputtered.

Sirius could understand his surprise. How could James ever have been jealous of that slimy scumbag? It didn’t make sense.

Lily nodded, but didn’t explain further. “But Sirius—why _are_ you here?”

Sirius smiled—he’d forgotten all about it the moment he’d seen Snape. “I got Pettigrew.”

Lily’s jaw dropped. “You… you _got_ him? Sirius, you didn’t…”

“No, no, I didn’t _kill_ him,” Sirius clarified. “I captured him. He’s a Hogwarts now.”

Snape snorted. “Because that’s the logical place to keep him…”

Sirius turned to him, wondering how Lily would react if he punched him… Snape’s nose would look better for it. Technically, he would be doing him a favor.

“Well, with Dumbledore there, it’s not like he’s going to escape, and we can still get information from him this way, so, yeah, it _is_ the logical place to keep him.”

Snape’s glare intensified, but he didn’t argue.

“Well, that’s great Sirius!” Lily exclaimed. She smiled guiltily as she cleaned the blood off his face. “Sorry about that. Is anything broken?”

“I don’t think so,” Sirius replied. “And you don’t have to apologize. You’re not the one who socked me.”

Lily turned to Snape, who pretended not to notice the pleading look in her eyes. Sirius didn’t care—he didn’t want Snape’s apology.

“So, how’s it been going?” Sirius asked casually. “The Horcrux Hunt.”

“I just found another Horcrux earlier today,” Snape answered.

Sirius tried not to let his surprise register on his face: _Another?!_ “So… How many have you found?”

“Two already!” Lily exclaimed. “Can you believe it? Come on, we’ll show you.”

Sirius followed them to the tent; a small, simple thing set up in a clearing. The inside was surprisingly spacious, but still rather primitive living conditions.

“Here they are,” Lily announced. She pointed to a large ring and a worn, leather book on the table. Sirius had a myriad questions running through his mind, but only one seemed important.

“Have you figured out how to destroy them yet?”

“No,” Lily mumbled, her face falling.

“We found two Horcruxes, and that’s all you have to say?” Snape said. “That it’s not good enough? What have you been doing all this time?”

Sirius was unfazed. “Well, as I’ve said before, I’ve captured Pettigrew—the traitor. And I didn’t mean it like that, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Snape grumbled.

Then, as if by divine inspiration, an idea occurred to him. He knew immediately that it had to be right. But there was only one way to know for sure. Sirius pulled out his wand and quickly performed a spell he had never used before.

“Sirius!” Lily gasped. “What are you…?”

She trailed off as angry red flames consumed the ring. A thick, black substance was leaking from the stone, like blood. There was a faint whistling sound coming from it, like the hiss of steam. Sirius flicked his wand and the flames disappeared. The ring was left on the table, the stone cracked, blackened and smoking.

“How’s that for an idea?” Sirius turned to Snape, grinning smugly.

“Fiendfyre,” Lily breathed, a smile stretching across her own face. “Sirius, you’re brilliant!” She pulled him into a tight hug. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Sirius shrugged, smiling in answer to Snape’s death-glares.

Suddenly, Snape had conjured his own Fiendfyre and it was licking at the binding of the book. Ashen flakes of paper swirled like snow around the inside of the tent. Sirius and Lily looked on, mesmerized by the destruction. Finally, the flames were gone.

“Oh,” Lily said in alarm. “Oh, well, good! We know how to destroy them. That’s great!”

Sirius understood why she sounded disappointed. “You wanted to destroy it, didn’t you?” he asked gently. He saw Snape’s fists clench out of the corner of his eye. If he even thought about punching him again… Sirius would make sure it was the last thing old Snivelly ever did.

“No,” Lily said quickly. “It doesn’t matter who does it, right?”

Sirius gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You can get the next one. I promise.”

She smiled and thanked him—she didn’t seem to notice the way Snape was glowering at Sirius.


	8. Tom Riddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort grew up in an orphanage. The building is in ruins now, but I think if were to go there… you might find something. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

By the third day, a clear pattern had emerged. Severus may have been the only one who saw it, but it helped him survive the fourth and fifth days. Come the sixth, it all was routine.

Severus was the first to wake every morning without fail. The temperature was coldest in the morning, but the day warmed gradually as the sun burned through the clouds. The first snowfall had come the morning after Sirius’s arrival—the first day. Severus considered it a bad omen. By mid-morning, though, the light dusting of snow had melted. The snow hadn’t returned since, but thick frost coated the ground usually until noon. Today was no different, except the sky was cloudier. Maybe it would snow later.

Lily was the second to wake. Sometimes Severus would have an entire hour before this happened. He never started breakfast without her. On the second and fifth days he had gone for a walk through the woods. But this morning it was chilly, and the tent was cozy—so he contented to watch Lily sleep. And ignore the urge to kill Sirius in his sleep.

When Lily opened her eyes and yawned, Severus lied and told her he had just woken up. Today it had only been about twenty minutes. Then they ate breakfast as Sirius often slept for two more hours after that. Lily giggled every time he snored, or mumbled things in his sleep—always nonsensical things. Today it was something about Quaffles and goblins, though Severus missed the finer points. He didn’t even want to know what Sirius’s dreams were about.

“Should we wake him?” Lily asked, smiling fondly at Sirius as he muttered something and rolled over.

“No,” Severus replied quickly. Sirius was bad enough when he was unconscious.

Lily smiled patiently. “Can’t you be the bigger person and at least try to get along?”

He grimaced. “I’d rather not.”

Sighing, she pulled out the List. She had started making it on the third day. It was essentially a list of all the possible places Horcruxes could be, which meant anywhere and everywhere. Accomplishing nothing and completely redundant, the List was basically a written-out copy of the Map. But it gave Lily something to put her time and effort into.

She, as always, worked on the List until Sirius woke up and crawled across the tent to eat breakfast. Severus prepared himself for what would inevitably happen next. Sirius, having consumed food and raised his blood sugar so he was no longer a lethargic zombie, would pick a fight with Severus—about something insignificant—who would gladly comply, and both would burn off some spare energy in the process. Lily would eventually get them to stop, but after lunch they would reprise their argument. Then they would go to the next spot on the List, set up camp, have something for dinner, and get ready to do the same thing tomorrow.

Severus saw Sirius sniff the air and wrinkle his nose. And so it always began…

“Is that you, Snivelly? I thought something’d died.”

“Guys…” Lily said warningly, not looking up from her work. As usual, she was ignored.

“We will all die if you keep eating all our food,” Severus said as Sirius poured cereal directly from the box into his mouth.

“He’s got a point,” Lily said quietly.

Severus was caught off-guard. She never took sides in their frivolous quarrels.  She claimed to be “above” them.

“What, you’re taking _his_ side?” Sirius blurted, spewing bits of cereal.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side…”

“Sure sounded like you were,” Sirius grumbled.

“What’s wrong with her taking my side, anyway?” Severus challenged.

“I told you, I’m not—” Lily began.

“Because you’re…” Sirius seemed stumped. “You’re… wrong.”

“How am I wrong?” Severus asked. “You _are_ eating all our food. That’s just a fact.”

“What’s the big deal? I’ll conjure some more.”

“You can’t conjure food!” Severus said in exasperation.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I _know_. Can’t you take a joke?”

“That wasn’t very funny…”

“It wasn’t supposed to be _funny_.”

“You said it was a joke! Jokes are _supposed_ to be funny!”

“Shut up!” Lily said suddenly.

Severus and Sirius turned to her in surprise.

“Seriously—stop,” she continued. “Your stupid arguments really aren’t helping anything.”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Sirius said. “I mean, I don’t see why we don’t just get a couple hotel rooms at this rate. This is not a Horcrux Hunt! However the hell you found the first two, I don’t really care. But we’re not going to find any more by just sitting around until we all want to kill each other.”

Severus was torn between agreeing with what Sirius had said, and wanted to punch him again for saying that to Lily. Maybe he could do both.

“Fine, then, you can leave.” Lily’s eyes flashed. “We were doing a lot better before you came along.”

“Right, this is my fault.” Sirius’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “Of course it is. And, you know what, maybe I will leave. I could probably find the other four.”

“And how exactly would you do that?” she demanded.

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t just sit around in a tent all day staring at a _map_.”

Lily moved so quickly that no one had much time to react. Severus saw a stream of light rush past his nose and it smacked into Sirius, knocking him backward. Then Lily had rolled up the map in question and was using it to whack Sirius’s head and face repeatedly. He flailed his arms, trying to fend her off. Lily still hadn’t backed down when Severus reluctantly decided to interfere. He started by verbally dissuading her—to no avail. She had Sirius pinned down and was walloping him with increasing enthusiasm. Severus crossed the tent and confiscated the now-crumpled and torn map, her makeshift weapon, and grabbed her wrists. She struggled against him.

“What the hell, Lily?” Sirius sat up. His face was sprinkled with a few scattered slices—paper-cuts. “I have a paper-cut on my eye. On my _eye_! It hurts.”

“That’s your _eyelid_. There’s a difference. Let me go,” she said to Severus, as she tried to squirm out of his grasp.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked. “You don’t care if Sirius gets beat up a little.”

“Admittedly, I think he deserves it,” Severus said. “But… I also think he has a point.”

“What?” Lily and Sirius said in unison, sounding equally confused.

Severus drew in a deep breath, and retained his grip on Lily’s wrists. “We’re not getting anything done, and if we keep going on like this, we’ll never find the other Horcruxes.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What would you suggest?” Her voice was icy.

Severus knew there was only one thing to do—one only person that could help. “We have to go to Hogwarts.”

 

* * *

 

 “Back so soon?” Dumbledore said as Lily, Severus and Sirius entered his office.

“Yes,” Lily answered. “We’ve sort of… hit a wall. We got two Horcruxes and we know how to destroy them now, but—”

“Wait, wait,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Slow down. You have _two_ Horcruxes? And you know how to destroy them?”

“Severus found another one. It was Voldemort’s diary,” Lily explained briefly.

“His… diary?” Dumbledore repeated skeptically. “Where was it? It is actually a Horcrux, right?”

“It was at the Malfoy’s,” said Severus. “And it is definitely a Horcrux. Or, was a Horcrux. It isn’t anymore. I killed it.”

“With Fiendfyre,” Sirius cut in. “My idea. I used it on the ring first.”

Dumbledore chuckled, seeming quite overwhelmed. “Well, it seems you’re doing just fine on your own. I don’t see why you need me.”

“No, we do,” Lily insisted. “We don’t know what to do next—where to go. If you could just give us a good lead… point us in the right direction…”

Dumbledore appeared deep in thought as he rubbed his bearded chin. “I do have one idea…”

Lily’s face brightened. An idea was all she needed.

“I can’t guarantee anything, though.”

She nodded, urging him to continue.

“Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, grew up in an orphanage. The building is in ruins now, but I think if were to go there… you might find something. It certainly couldn’t hurt.”

Lily felt the excitement rising as Dumbledore explained where the orphanage was and how this was the first place where he had met Tom Riddle when he was a young boy. This was unsettling to Lily—she had never thought about Voldemort having been a child. It was unfathomable.

“Oh, and Sirius,” Dumbledore said when he was done with his story. “Your week is nearly up.”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “I’ll, uh… finish up with him then take him to the Ministry.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily and dismissed them from his office. Lily and Severus followed as Sirius led them across the castle and into a tall, narrow tower. They ascended the tight spiral stairs and climbed through the trapdoor. Lily came up behind Sirius with Severus behind her. The room was small, dark and windowless. Severus lit his wand, illuminating the close confines.

Lily jumped back when she saw what—or who—was in the room, only a few feet away from her. Slumped against the wall was Peter Pettigrew. His beady eyes were fixed on them, but he remained otherwise motionless. Lily stayed at the back of the room near Severus, while Sirius approached Peter. Peter stared at the wall determinedly, just past Sirius who crouched down beside him.

Lily bit her lip nervously as she looked on. Severus’s wand-light was unsteady as he fidgeted in clear discomfort. Meanwhile, Sirius exhaled slowly and glanced down at the wand in his hands. After a moment, he stood up and took a step away, still watching Peter intently. Twirling his wand in his fingers, he cleared his throat.

“How’re things at Hogwarts? Glad to be back?”

Peter didn’t respond; he stared across the room unblinkingly. Lily found it rather unnerving.

“I’ll take it you’re not having such a good time,” Sirius said. “But no worries—I’ll take you down to the Ministry tonight. You’ll be in Azkaban before you know it. I’m sure it will be much more… suited to you.”

Still no reaction from Peter.

Sirius clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Why does it seem like I’m always the one doing all the talking? Say something.”

Peter’s mouth remained firmly shut.

“Say something,” Sirius repeated, more agitation in his voice. He kicked his foot at Peter. “Say something!” He kicked harder. “Move, at least! What’s the matter with you?” Harder still… “Look at me!”

Peter glanced up, wide-eyed, at Sirius’s outburst. “Leave me alone!” he said with surprising strength.

Lily saw Sirius’s cruel smile even in the dim light.

“Well, I can’t do that, Wormtail.” He crouched down again. “Now that I’ve got you talking… there’s some information I need to get from you.”

Peter was shaking his head. “I don’t know anything… you know I—”

“Where are Voldemort’s Horcruxes?” Sirius demanded, his wand pressed into Peter’s chest.

“Horcruxes? I don’t—”

Peter’s body convulsed suddenly, like from an electric shock. He gasped and slid farther down the wall, trembling violently.

“Sirius, please, I—”

“Let’s try this again,” Sirius said maliciously. “Where are Voldemort’s Horcruxes?”

“Please, I don’t know anything about—”

This time the convulsion was accompanied by a faint zapping sound Lily hadn’t heard the first time. She shuddered, backing up farther and bumping into Severus. He was wearing a grim expression.

It went on like that for a while.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know, please—”

 _Zap_!

“Where are they?”

“Sirius, I swear, I—”

 _Zap_!

Peter had soon been reduced to a crumpled, sobbing heap on the floor, and Sirius’s voice was growing increasingly desperate. Lily could stand it no longer when Sirius threatened the Cruciatus Curse.

“Sirius, stop,” she said shakily.

He spun around, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. “Lily, he—”

“He doesn’t know anything,” she continued. “It’s hopeless. Take him to the Ministry.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “You’re right… I’m—I’m sorry… I’ll take him now.” He put a quick body-bind on the defenseless Peter and floated him out of the tower and down the stairs ahead of Lily and Severus. They passed a couple wandering students on the way out of the castle. They stared at their Potions professor, probably wondering if his mysterious “leave of absence” was related to the vicious-looking young man and the frozen, levitated, beat-up man a ways ahead of him and Lily. The kids would gawk for a moment before scurrying away. Lily heard at least three of them say, “Was that Professor Snape?”

Severus didn’t react to any of this.

“Sorry you have to be away from your job,” Lily said.

It seemed to take him a moment to realize what she was talking about. “Oh, it’s fine. Really. I don’t particularly like teaching…”

One teenage boy down the hall from them said, much too loudly, “Oh bloody hell—looks like Snape’s back. I’d hoped he’d died.”

Lily tried not to smile and it almost looked like Severus was doing the same.

“I’m not especially fond of children, either,” he added.

They both started laughing, garnering even more stares. Lily wondered if the students had ever seen Severus smile…


	9. Primitive Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know a bad lead when I see one. There are no Horcruxes here!

The building was in ruins, as Dumbledore had said it would be. Old, crumbling stone cascaded down the hill like a frozen waterfall, down toward the quaint Muggle village at its base. Lily led the way up to the clearly abandoned orphanage.

“Should we just set the whole thing on fire?” Sirius asked hopefully.

“How would we know if we’d actually gotten any Horcruxes, then?” Severus snapped.

“Yeah, we’ll have to go through and look for any,” Lily called over her shoulder as she jogged up the hillside, picking her way around the scattered stone, and the occasional patch of snow. She was the first to reach the orphanage and slipped inside through the eroded walls. Light filtered in through the cracks in the ceiling and each beam was thick with specks of floating dust. The air was cold and stagnant. Lily shivered involuntarily. They were almost less prepared for winter than for the rest of the Horcrux hunt. She cupped her ears tenderly; they were beginning to ache.

Soon, Sirius and Severus had climbed in through the gaping hole in the wall—maybe it had been a door at some point, or a large window—and joined her.

“Who’s ready to find some Horcruxes?” Sirius’s voice echoed in the hollow space.

The three began scouring the area for anything that wasn’t part of the building’s structure. There wasn’t much. They worked their way through, room to room, peering in cracks and behind bricks. Underneath the collapsed stairs, Lily spotted something. She couldn’t place what it was right away, but it was pale with large eyes… An eerie sense of foreboding came over her. Suddenly, there was movement and sound from behind her and the pale thing burst apart violently, shard of it flying through the air as Lily leapt back. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she didn’t know why.

“Why did you do that?” Severus’s voice. Bitter, accusatory.

“Wanted to see if it was a Horcrux.” Sirius’s answer. Nonchalant, dismissive.

“Yes,” Severus scoffed, “because the Dark Lord would make an old porcelain doll’s head into a Horcrux.”

“It was worth a shot,” Sirius argued. “No harm done. And can you please stop calling him ‘the Dark Lord’ like some filthy Death Eater? Seriously! It’s _Voldemort_.”

“Sirius, it doesn’t matter,” Lily said weakly, not wanting to hear another one of their lengthy arguments. One of the painted blue eyes was lying at her feet, staring up at her. She was so transfixed she hardly noticed Sirius’s lecture on how it did, in fact, matter. Carefully, she stepped on the shard of porcelain, feeling it crunch beneath her toes. The doll’s head was the only thing they’d found so far besides loose bricks, shattered light fixtures and scraps of furniture. They had to have been searching for hours at this point. And all in vain.

Lily was thoroughly chilled, her teeth beginning to chatter. She looked around at Severus and Sirius. Their breath came out in puffs of fog. She was surprised they hadn’t started complaining about the cold yet, though both were vigorously rubbing their hands together.

“Let’s call it a day,” Lily said finally. “We can look more tomorrow.”

They hurriedly set up the tent on the spot, inside the ruins of the orphanage. Miraculously, Sirius and Severus worked together in their mutual desperation to get out of the cold.  The three of them huddled inside at long last. Lily conjured a small, bright and easily controllable flame. It was soon warm enough to lose their heavy coats.

Unsurprisingly, Sirius was the first one asleep. He still slept like a teenager—sprawled out, dead to world, for usually twelve hours at a time. The soft warmth and mesmerizing quality of the flame was lulling Lily to sleep as well. She was nearly there when she heard Severus addressing her.

“Do you think there’s anything here?”

It took her a minute to decipher the meaning of his vague question. “Dumbledore said there might be,” she mumbled. “It’s the only lead we have, anyway. I’m thinking it might be buried under the orphanage or something…”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Although her eyes were closed, Lily could sense that he was still awake, not even lying down or trying to fall asleep. “Sev?”

“Yeah?” His response came quickly, as if he was expecting it.

“Go to sleep.”

She didn’t hear any rustles to hint that he was settling in for the night. She opened her eyes a crack, and, sure enough, he was still sitting up.

“Shouldn’t someone stay up?” he asked. “To stand guard?”

Lily rubbed her eyes, slightly startled. “Why? No one knows what we’re doing… right?”

“Of course not,” he said. “But just in case…?”

She smiled tiredly. “You can stay up if you want, but I’m not taking a shift, and I doubt Sirius would sacrifice any of his beauty sleep.”

Severus let out a loud bark of laughter and Sirius stirred and rolled over. They muffled their snickers and both nestled into a sleeping bag, drifting off at last.

The next morning, a fluffy layer of snow had coated the ground, and weighed down on the top of the tent. The sun was blindingly bright, but didn’t radiate the slightest amount of heat. Indeed, the temperature was so forbidding, and the tent so comfortable, that they spent the entire morning and much of the afternoon inside. Needless to say, Sirius slept through most of this time, none the wiser to the wasted time that was so bothering Lily.

The lightest part of the day passed, and long shadows fell.

“We won’t be able to do much with all this snow,” Lily said yet again, trying to convince herself that it wasn’t a criminal loss of time.

Severus nodded. “Exactly. All the snow will have blown in the orphanage. Everything will be covered up by it.”

“But it’s not the snow is going to melt,” she said fretfully. “This big of a snowfall is going to stick around until… until _spring_! It’s already late December. It’s just going to keep snowing at this point.”

“Lily, don’t worry about it,” Severus said absently.

“Don’t worry about it?” she repeated through clenched teeth. “That’s your advice?”

“Listen, there might not be anything here.”

She narrowed her eyes at his tone of voice. “You sound like you don’t even care.”

“I do, but…” Severus looked guilty. “We already got two Horcruxes. And that’s better than I ever thought we’d do.”

“So you’re saying we should just give up? Call it quits?”

He hesitated, apparently not noticing or caring that he was treading dangerous waters. Lily was like a boiler these days. And currently her pressure gauge was off the charts.

“Not necessarily. But we’re not going to be able to get much done in the winter. We can take this slow. Gather up all the information first, then find the Horcrux. Go one by one.”

She didn’t appreciate his rationalism. “By the time we’ve done that Voldemort will have taken over the world!”

Severus frowned. A crease appeared in his forehead. “Okay, okay,” he sighed. “Do you want to start now?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.” Lily tossed a pillow in the general direction of Sirius’s head and it woke him immediately. He scowled at her.

“Get up. We’re looking for Horcruxes,” Severus said briskly.

Lily couldn’t help but notice that Severus was more interested in the hunt when it was sure to annoy Sirius.

“Again?” Sirius muttered. Then he seemed to realize what he’d said and looked up at Lily with wide eyes.

“What is it with you two?” she cried.

“Me?” Severus sputtered. “I’m the one who—”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she snapped. “You were ready to pack your bags and head home two minutes ago.”

“No, I—”

“My point is,” she said, cutting across him once again, “do either of you really want to kill Voldemort?”

“Of course!” Severus said indignantly.

“Obviously.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But not in the _snow_.”

Lily drew in a deep breath. “Fine, then. I’ll do it by myself.”

Sirius groaned. “Lily, you know I want to do this just as much as you do, but honestly. It would do us all good to have a vacation. Somewhere warm.”

Lily snorted. “What, you want to go on a Caribbean cruise, or something?”

“Okay, not what I meant. We need a break. Like just one day. We’re going to get frostbite! I don’t even have gloves.”

“It’s just a little below freezing,” Lily said thoughtfully. “I might have an extra pair.”

She did not, in fact, have an extra pair of gloves, but was able to convince Sirius to venture outside anyway. Lily led the trek through the orphanage, through which snow had drifted in the night, making it a tedious journey. Several times one of three, in dragging their feet through the light snow, stubbed their toe on a buried brick. Exactly that happened to Sirius, just after he had mocked Severus for being in the same situation.

Sirius swore loudly and fell back in the snow-bank, clutching his foot.

Severus was laughing to the point of nearly falling over himself. “It’s called karma, Black.”

“So are we just going on a fun winter wonderland hike or are we actually going to start looking for Horcruxes?” Sirius asked, glaring up at Lily.

“We are looking,” she insisted. “Now stop complaining, get up and let’s go.”

Sirius muttered something under his breath that Lily chose to ignore. They continued trudging through the snow at even slower pace than before, Sirius lagging behind and following in Severus’s footprints.

They searched until darkness fell. They destroyed many things, most of them abandoned, broken toys—none of them Horcruxes. By the light of their wands, they returned to the tent late that night, frozen stiff and demoralized. Lily hid under her sleeping bag, shivering and waiting for her body heat to fill up the small space. It took a long time, and even longer for her to fall asleep.

A few more days like that and they were going through the same rooms of the orphanage over and over. More snow fell, and the temperature plummeted. They hardly spoke to one another. That meant no big fights had occurred. But Lily knew that could only last for so long. And she was right. They had just come in from another long day. The air was warmer, above freezing in fact, but that was not necessarily a good thing. They were soaked to the skin from melting snow and Lily felt rather hypothermic. At least it had always seemed like a painless, passive death, hypothermia… Lily shook her head. She couldn’t think like that.

On top of it all, they were extremely low on food and had been on a ration system for the past three days. Everyone was rather irritable, to say the least.

“Hey,” Severus said suddenly, making Lily jump. She didn’t think anyone had spoken yet all day. “You know what I just realized?” He held up the calendar that they occasionally referenced, until it got too depressing. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Oh,” Lily said. “Well, happy Christmas.”

“I say we postpone it,” Sirius said. “After all, we haven’t much of a feast.” He gestured to the can of soup being heated over a magically conjured flame.

“Or cancel it altogether,” Lily added. “I don’t feel like celebrating.”

“Well, yeah,” Severus said. “I wasn’t suggesting we throw a party or anything, just saying that it’s Christmas.”

“What would we have to celebrate anyway?” Sirius said. Apparently a nerve had been struck. “This has been the worst year on record. I guess we should be happy that it’s almost over, but next year could be even worse, I suppose…”

“How could it possibly be worse than this year?” Lily snapped.

“Well,” Sirius began, seeming to put some thought into it, “let’s say Voldemort finds out that we’re hunting Horcruxes and kills all three of us, but allows my lovely cousin Bella to have some fun first. That would be pretty bad.”

“Not worse than my own son getting killed in front of me,” Lily said quietly, but in a voice laced with venom.

Sirius sighed heavily. “Okay, I understand that you have this weird thing about not valuing your own life or whatever, but some of us don’t want to risk it all so we can go primitive camping in January.”

A nerve of her own having been struck with vicious accuracy, she leapt to her feet. “You always said you were James’s best friend, and he made you Harry’s godfather, but do you not even care that they’re _dead_? Are you gonna let Voldemort get away with killing them?”

Sirius was also on his feet, and Severus had backed up in the far corner of the tent, his head swiveling back and forth between them as if watching a fast-paced tennis match.

“Of course I care! You have no idea how it affected me when they died, Lily. _No idea._ But unlike you, I know a bad lead when I see one. There are no Horcruxes here!”

Lily furrowed her brow. So that was what this was about. She should’ve known. That’s what it was always about. “But Dumbledore said that—”

“I know what Dumbledore said! I was _there_. But he’s not always right, you know. I understand that it’s the only hope you have, and you’re clinging to that; I get it, okay? But we’re just wasting time out here. Whether you like it or not, we’re _wasting time_. We could be trying to figure out what one of the Horcruxes is, or where they are, but instead we’re back where we were a week ago: _Nowhere_. And we can’t go crawling back to Dumbledore every time we need help. I doubt he knows much more than we do at this point. We’re on our own now.”

Lily could only stare as she tried to formulate a response. With each passing second, Sirius’s eyebrows raised higher and higher, in smug anticipation of her answer.

“Exactly,” he said shortly, turning away. “Let’s pack up now. Might as well.”

“We’re _not packing up_ ,” Lily said slowly, over-enunciating each word.

“Why?” Sirius asked, bewildered. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah, I did. Loud and clear.”

“So… what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that you don’t have any better ideas as to where to go. We’re just going to end up doing this exact same thing in a new location, right?”

“Maybe, but, you know, indoors with plumbing…”

“So we’re going to sacrifice the mission so you can be _comfortable_?”

“Sacrifice?” Sirius echoed, looking to Severus for backup. “And since when is it ‘the mission’?”

“Voldemort grew up here,” Lily said. “There may not be any Horcruxes in the orphanage, but there’s a good chance there’ll be something around here. This is the only lead we have, and you want to abandon it so you can have a hot shower and sleep in a real bed?”

Sirius, for some reason, smiled. “Lily, I know. This is the only hope you have, and you’re—”

“Stop saying that!” she shrieked. “I’m not ‘clinging’ to it! Since when are you a bloody psychologist?”

He looked taken aback. “Lily, I think you may be in denial.”

She shook her head slowly back and forth. She forced her voice to remain calm, but her hands were trembling. “I advise you get out of here.”

Sirius blinked. “What?”

“Right now. Before I remember the incantation for that curse that makes you drown in your own blood.”

“I don’t think there’s a curse for that…”

“Really? I remember reading about it somewhere…” Lily was bluffing, but Sirius looked rather nervous.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” she said. “What I want is for you to get out. Go to your five-star hotel. Maybe Voldemort hid a Horcrux in your room. Far more likely than the town he grew up in, don’t you think?”

Sirius drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes sliding shut for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he began gathering up his things from around the tent.

Lily was startled. “Sirius… what—?”

“I’m leaving,” he said. “Like you wanted me to.”

She bit her lip. “But—”

“Oh, so you didn’t _really_ want me to leave? Sounded like you did. And you know what, now I kind of want to leave myself. Besides, that five-star hotel sounds really nice… Good luck with your hunt; I’m starting mine.”

Sirius didn’t even bother to leave the tent, but Disapparated on the spot. Lily’s ears were still ringing from the loud noise as she turned to Severus.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, plopping down on her sleeping bag.

“You think I’m sad to see him go?” Severus said with a faint smile. “Good riddance.”

Lily shrugged and buried her face in her hands.

“Plus, it’s probably smart to split up. Good offensive strategy,” he added coyly.

Lily smiled despite herself. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Severus grinned. “The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

Lily thought for a moment that he sounded too sincere… but she shrugged it off and took the can of soup off the heat. “More for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing arguments and fight scenes. So you can expect to see a lot more of them! Next chapter will be some Lily POV and some Snape.


	10. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have to tell you!” Severus blurted. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

Lily had managed to get herself into yet another embarrassing and difficult situation. No surprise there. Of course it had been on her mind for a while that there were no Horcruxes in the orphanage—and probably none in the town either. The more she thought about it, the more this made sense. Voldemort, who had a bit of a dramatic flair according to Dumbledore, wouldn’t put a piece of his soul in the ruins of an orphanage in a small, Muggle town. But after making a big scene with Sirius last night, she was far too proud to admit she was wrong. She vowed to not lose her head next time someone questioned her authority.

And what authority was this? Who had made her the leader of the hunt? She had promoted herself to the position, unofficially, and was no more qualified than anyone else. In fact, the other two had been far more helpful… actually finding a Horcrux, and discovering how to destroy them.

“I think we’ve already searched the orphanage pretty well,” Severus said tentatively.

Lily smiled. He was so the opposite of Sirius, who seemed to thrive to irritate her at times. “There’re no Horcruxes in the orphanage,” she mumbled.

“So… do you want to go into the town?”

She nodded hesitantly. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“There might be something there,” Severus pointed out.

“I don’t think there will be,” Lily admitted.

He tilted his head to one side. “Are you saying Sirius was right?”

She bit her lip. “No in so many words…”

Severus chuckled. “Do you want to go into town anyway? It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I suppose. Could be… fun.”

“For lack of a better word?” Severus suggested.

She nodded and yawned widely. “You know, I might pull a Sirius and sleep for another two… ten hours.”

He laughed again. “Go right ahead. You could use some rest.”

Wondering whether or not she should feel offended, Lily curled up in her sleeping bag and drifted off easily. When she woke awhile later, she had the contented feeling of not knowing how long she had slept, and not caring. Severus had evidently left the tent, so it must have been fairly long. She could see the darkness falling around the hilltop, but the sun set so early in these short days. Feeling both refreshed and nearly faint from hunger, she crawled toward the flap-doors of the tent.

Suddenly, a blast of freezing air hit her in the face. Severus ducked inside.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said. “Do you want to walk down to the village? See what we can find?”

“I don’t really want to look for Horcruxes…” she admitted with a guilty smile. “I know, I’m a hypocrite.”

“It’s fine, Lily,” Severus said. “It’s too cold for that kind of thing anyway.” He grinned crookedly.

“My thoughts exactly.” They bundled up in their worn winter clothes and left the tent. The hill was steep and slippery in the snow, and they maneuvered slowly, clinging to each other for support.

The tiny, rustic Muggle village was bustling and festive. It seemed like all its residents were milling  around, laughing and singing carols. Each door was adorned with a wreath, and smoke billowed from every chimney.

“Probably going to church,” Lily noted, as they walked against the traffic flow. They were attracting curious looks; they were strangers in a town where everybody knew everyone else.

“Should we go?” Severus asked.

She gave it a moment of consideration. “No. I’m hungry.”

They ducked into a café that smelled of coffee and spices. The Muggle girl behind the counter didn’t look pleased to see customers and didn’t try to hide it. “I was just closing up,” she said sourly.

“Can we get something really quick?” Severus asked hopefully.

She sighed impatiently. “Fine. What do you want?”

They ordered two hot cocoas and most of the desserts left in the display case. They took a booth by the window to eat. The Muggle girl tapped her nails on the counter and jingled her keys in an obvious attempt to get them to hurry up. Regardless, they took their time, sampling the cakes, cookies and crème brulee.

“I wish this was butterbeer,” Lily said of her hot cocoa. Severus looked over to the Muggle girl, who was currently facing the other way, wiping the counters for the third time. Quickly, Severus took his wand and pointed it at Lily’s hot cocoa then stowed it and glanced around the make sure no one had seen.

“There,” he said. “It’s butterbeer now.”

Lily took a sip and felt the instantly warming effect. “Thanks, Sev.”

They finished up and were ushered out the door. The town’s residents were leaving the church now and meandering through the downtown area, lit by streetlamps and glow from windows. Lily and Severus were again going against the current of the crowd, back toward the orphanage on top of the hills. The starlight grew brighter the farther away from the village they got—unadulterated by the streetlamps and houselights.

The moon was the tiniest sliver in the inky sky; it would be gone completely by the next night, and then start the process of waxing again. Lily thought of Remus, as she always did when looking at the moon. How he hated the new moon… She wondered what he had been up to for the past month or so of the hunt. Surely he would want to help. She should’ve asked him. By now, Sirius had probably recruited him for his own hunt. She was sure the two of them would be able to find the rest of the Horcruxes with little trouble. Hopefully they’d save one for her…

The warmth of the butterbeer starting to wear off, Lily and Severus entered the tent. It offered limited protection from the elements and always took a while to heat up to a comfortable temperature. Severus sat down, propped up on a pillow. He rubbed his hands together. Lily could still see his breath and her own. Slowly, she moved beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He was very still—no longer rubbing his hands, or breathing. Then his arm wrapped around her, tentatively.

She smiled. “You’re wonderful.”

“I’m not.”

“And modest…” Her head slipped down onto his chest. Even when the air inside the tent had warmed up she didn’t move, for by then she had fallen asleep.

* * *

Severus didn’t manage to get much sleep that night. He was overly alert of the rate of Lily’s breathing and every time she fidgeted and shifted in her sleep. His heart was heavy in his chest; breathing was difficult, supporting his theory that one could literally drown in guilt.

But above all, he could not get over the tickle of her hair against his arms, or how warm and soft she was… how her eyes moved behind the lids in a dream. He kissed the top of her head again and again, pretending that she knew what he was doing, but was so accustomed to it that she didn’t react.

Around the darkest part of the night, the snow began to fall—he watched the top of the tent droop as it was weighted down with snow. It continued through the sunrise. He watched all the different colors of the sky through the slit in the flap-doors. He had never realized how many colors were involved in a simple sunrise, though he couldn’t remember ever watching one.

Although the day was bright, it was colder than ever. The wind howled around the hilltop with a vengeance, slipping in through the seams of the tent. A chill ran up his spine, and he held Lily closer.

She mumbled something in her sleep. His breath caught in his throat. Did she say what he thought she said? He waited… and she said it again, louder and clearer.

“James…”

His stomach clenched. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. She twisted her head around to look up at Severus. Then she smiled. The knot in Severus’s stomach tightened. Why did she have to keep doing that? Smiling like that?

“Happy Christmas,” she said sleepily.

He gave her an uneasy smile in return, all too aware of her weight, heavy on his chest; almost as heavy as his guilt.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern crossing her brilliantly green eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her ear against his chest. She giggled. “Your heart is pounding…”

Embarrassed, Severus took her by the wrists and gently but firmly guided her away from him, so they were face to face. “I have to tell you something.”

She smiled again and he noticed how the action lit up her emerald eyes as though they’d been turned on by a light switch. “Okay, tell me.”

He took in a deep breath. “You’ll hate me.”

“How could I ever hate you?”

Severus remembered a time when she did, but he didn’t mention it. That could never compare to how she would feel about him once he told her. “You’d be surprised how easily.”

She rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t hate you.”

He closed his eyes tightly. “It’s my fault.” When he risked a peek, Lily looked confused.

“What’s your fault?”

“Everything…”

She waited for him to explain, the smile rapidly fading from her face… her eyes were darkening… hardening…

“Do you know why the Dark Lord targeted your family and Harry in particular?”

Lily shifted uncomfortably, clearly troubled. “Where is this going, Sev?”

_Somewhere I don’t want to go, but know I have to…_ “Do you know why?” he persisted, watching her face carefully, waiting for the moment of comprehension with great dread.

She nodded bleakly. “There was a prophecy.” Her voice was flat. She ran her hands through her hair. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about this…”

“I have to tell you!” he blurted. “I can’t stand it anymore.” Why couldn’t she understand? Why couldn’t she see what he’d done? Did he have to spell it out for her? “I overheard the prophecy,” he said slowly and heavily.

Lily appeared even more confused. “I… don’t understand.”

He sighed quietly and tried again, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. It was a hard enough thing to do when he wasn’t about to ruin her world—again. “I was still a Death Eater at the time. I didn’t know what the prophecy meant, so… I repeated everything I heard to the… to him.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to say the name. “To Voldemort.”

He could see something change in her face, and rushed on, anxious to take advantage of her delayed reaction to explain himself.

“When he decided that it meant you, or your son, I tried to talk him out of it, I swear I did—I went to Dumbledore for help, to get you protection—I did everything I could—”

“But it wasn’t enough, was it?”

Severus flinched at the razor-sharp bite of Lily’s words. Her expression of shock had changed to horror and then to disgust and fury in a matter of seconds. It had sunk in. There was nothing he could do, but see how she would take it. He decided he deserved whatever she did or said to him.

“Lily, I’m sorry. Really, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” she shrieked. Angry tears began to stream down her blotchy cheeks, and she was regarding him with the utmost loathing. “You killed them! Is that why you’re here, then, trying to redeem yourself? You really haven’t changed—I thought you might’ve, I thought you were different now. You’re just the same as you always were…”

“Always…?” he echoed helplessly. He watched in devastation as she dashed around the tent, haphazardly throwing everything into her bag. All the while, she choked out insults, screamed them if she had the energy.

Lily left the tent and began tearing it down manually with Severus still inside. He scrambled out and looked on. Snow was still falling heavily in large flurries, swirling about in the heavy wind. He’d lost all sensation in his extremities almost immediately.  Lily, who was in stocking feet and a short-sleeved shirt, didn’t even seem to notice the cold. She was violently stuffing the tent into the bag, letting out a frustrated scream every now and then.

Timidly, Severus stepped forward. “You have to believe me that I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t do this on purpose and I did everything I could… I convinced the Dark Lord to spare you—”

She whirled around, her eyes afire. “What, you want me to _thank_ you or something?”

“No, no, I—”

“Well, thanks a million, Snivellus, where would I be without you?”

“You’d be dead,” he muttered.

She paused, and narrowed her gaze to an impossibly piercing pinpoint. “Exactly. I’d be so much better off if I’d never met you, d’you know that? I wish I never had… but the best I can do is hope I’ll never see you again. Will you grant me that one wish? Promise you’ll never try to find me?”

Her words, tone and glare combined were too much to bear. He nodded despairingly—he didn’t want to know what would come out if he opened his mouth. He would probably fall to his knees in the snow and beg her not to go.  Seemingly satisfied, Lily turned on her heel.

“Have a nice life, Snivelly,” she said. “Thanks for ruining mine.”

The crack of her Disapparation was the worst sound Severus had ever heard. He crossed his arms over his chest and hung his head. Alone and shivering on the hilltop, the tears froze as soon as they left his eyes.


	11. The Hunt Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will not claim to know there is a Horcrux there, but there’s a good chance.

For his entire life, Sirius had been given a hard time by his overly vocal conscience. He also had a habit of acting impulsively, and the two were not a pleasant combination. He kept replaying everything he had said to Lily only earlier that day, and flinched with each memory.

Now, he was actually staying in a hotel, though not an upscale one by any stretch of the imagination. It was dumpy, and cheap; his room smelled of cigarette smoke and there were several suspicious stains on the floor. He wondered, with a trace of a smile on his face, whether anyone had ever been murdered here.

Since he hadn’t had any Muggle money, and couldn’t recall what it looked like well enough to conjure some, he’d had to Confund quite a few people to earn the room. He had the window open—partly to get some fresh air and partly to find an owl. It was Christmas Eve, or, rather, early Christmas morning, and snow was beginning to fall, blowing in through the window.

Sirius had scrawled a quick note to Dumbledore, briefly explaining that there was nothing at the orphanage, how he had split off from Lily and Snape, where he was now staying, and asking for additional information about Horcruxes. Even as he wrote it, he knew what a hypocrite he was. But Lily didn’t have to know he was still “crawling back to Dumbledore” as Sirius had put it such a short time ago. And it couldn’t hurt… The old man might prove to be withholding information, for whatever reason.

The room was growing colder with each passing minute, and he still hadn’t seen anything fly by. “Come on, I just need one owl,” he grumbled. Barely a moment later, perfectly on cue, a bird swooped in through the window.

Sirius jumped up and quickly fastened the letter to the owl’s leg.

“Thanks, mate. Sorry you’re stuck working on Christmas.”

The owl hooted indignantly and left the room, soaring off into the dark night and swirling snow. Sirius eagerly closed the window and fell back onto the bed—its springs creaking—on top of the covers and fully dressed. He was asleep within a few minutes, leaving the lights on, and managed a couple restless hours of sleep that left him even more tired than he was before.

An incessant tapping at his window woke him unreasonably early the next morning. Grumpily, he opened it and let the owl inside and untied the note around its leg.

 

_Sirius—_

_I hope you forgive me for not responding immediately, but it is rather bad etiquette to owl someone at three-thirty in the morning. I’m sure you meant no harm by it._

_I’m disappointed to hear you’ve had a falling out, but am confident you’ll be able to fix things. In order to motivate you, I refuse to provide any additional information (that I may or may not possess) until you do so._

_Happy Christmas._

_—Albus Dumbledore_

 

Sirius crumpled up the letter and threw it toward the trashcan in the corner of the rom. The wad of paper bounced off the rim and landed on the floor. It was all too easy for Sirius to hate Dumbledore at times like these.

He lay back on the bed again and let the owl leave. So now he had absolutely no choice but to return to Lily, apologizing through his teeth… He _was_ sorry, but that didn’t mean he wanted to admit it to her. Another thing he would be wise to improve upon.

Sirius ventured forth from the hotel room around midmorning. He joined some miserable Muggles at the breakfast buffet. One particularly unkempt man in the corner let out a series of hacking coughs intermittently. Indeed, every time Sirius went to take a bite of something, he would cough so loudly and repulsively that Sirius had a hard time swallowing.

“Classy place, eh?” he said to a heavyset woman sitting at the table next to his. She appraised him for a moment with beady eyes before returning her attention to her Belgian waffles.

Sirius was about to take a sip of his coffee when the hacker let out another phlegm-plentiful cough. He sighed and put the mug down firmly on the table.

“You know what?” he said to the same woman. “I think that guy over there by the TV—the one who keeps coughing—I think he works here. It’s a conspiracy. They’ve hired him to sit down here and do that so all the guests lose their appetites.”

She raised her overly-plucked eyebrows and took another forkful of syrupy waffles. Sirius shook his head and stood up.

“Well, happy Christmas,” he grumbled and trudged back up to his room, grabbing a bagel on the way.

By early afternoon, Sirius had contented to lying back on the bed, his feet hanging off the end, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. Suddenly, there was a loud _crack_. He bolted upright. It sounded as if someone had Apparated directly into his room… and someone had. It was Lily.

She didn’t look so well. Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained with dried tears. Before he could get a word out she began rambling slurred, hysterical words.

“Sirius, it’s Snape—he’s—he’s a—the prophecy—and Voldemort—he told him—it’s his fault! All his fault…”

Forgetting his confusion for a moment, he pulled Lily to sit next to him. “What’s Snape’s fault?”

She took a deep, rattling breath and held it for a moment. “You remember the prophecy? I think James told you about it.” Her voice was calm on the surface, but there was a frenzied undertone.

Sirius nodded slowly.

Her next words came out all in one breath, strung together. “Snape heard the prophecy and repeated it to Voldemort.”

It only took a second or two for Sirius to make the connection. His fists clenched automatically.

“I knew it,” he hissed.

He thought of the black-haired man in question with refreshed hatred. He was pacing the small room, wringing his hands, not completely aware of himself anymore. Then he turned back to Lily.

“You wanted revenge, right?” he asked, his gray eyes flaming.

She chewed on her lip as he towered over her. “Well, yes, but—”

“It’s just as much Snape’s fault as Wormtail’s. More so, even.”

“I know…”

“So what’s the problem then? Peter was my friend since first year. He was your friend, too. You had no problem going after him, so why not—?”

“It’s different!” she insisted. “I don’t want to see him again, but I don’t want to…”

“Hurt him? Kill him? It’s his fault! You said it yourself! If it wasn’t for him, they’d both be alive.”

“He didn’t mean to… he didn’t know…”

Sirius’s eyes widened in his incredulity. “Are you actually _defending_ him? Snape? You are, aren’t you?”

Lily shrugged and he threw up his hands in exasperation. “Please, Sirius, you’re always like this… I’m not ready to forgive him—”

“I’d hope not!” he scoffed.

“—but I don’t want to kill him.”

Sirius sighed and leaned against the wall, picking at the faded and peeling wallpaper.

After a minute or so, Lily said, “So this is your luxury hotel?”

He grinned crookedly. “How’d you find me?”

The smile looked out of place on her tragic face. “Dumbledore knows all.”

 

* * *

 

After all this time, Severus had finally sunk to the level of arguing with a gargoyle statue. He was only surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

“But I’m a Professor!” he said in exasperation. “So what if I don’t know the password?”

The gargoyle didn’t move—only seemed to smirk at him.

Severus scowled. “If you don’t move right now, I’ll—”

“Threatening a statue, are we, Severus?” said a familiar and amused voice from behind him. Severus spun around, startled, to see Dumbledore, standing there with crossed arms and twinkling eyes.

“I have to talk to you.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “You’re alone?”

“Yes. Can we go in?”

Wordlessly, Dumbledore stepped up to the gargoyle and it moved aside. They started their way up the spiral stairs. Severus couldn’t help but feel disgruntled that the gargoyle didn’t demand a password from Dumbledore. When they reached the office, they assumed their usual positions: Dumbledore in the large, high-backed chair behind the desk, and Severus in the small, unremarkable chair in front of it.

“I was wondering if I can have my teaching position back,” Severus said sullenly, before Dumbledore could get a word out.

“Where’s Lily?”

“I told her,” he said meaningfully.

Understanding crossed Dumbledore’s blue eyes. “I see… you told her the truth. I assume she didn’t take it well, but you can’t blame her.”

“She hates me.”

“She hates what you _did_.”

“No, she hates _me_ ,” Severus repeated. “You weren’t there… you didn’t see her… you didn’t hear what she said…”

“True,” Dumbledore allowed. “But I know Lily.”

“I know her better,” he insisted, ignoring the childishness of his words.

Dumbledore let it slide, too. “So you want to abandon the hunt now?” There was an edge to his voice, one of frustration.

“She never wants to see me again. What else is there to do?”

“The only reason you went on the hunt was to be with Lily?”

Severus furrowed his brow. “Well, yeah… And you told me to.”

“You don’t care, then, about killing Voldemort?”

Severus sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think it can be done. Even if he didn’t have any Horcruxes. But he’s got six!”

“Four,” Dumbledore corrected. “There are only four Horcruxes left.”

“And we’ve already used up our quota of luck finding the first two,” Severus said bitterly. “And the orphanage—there was nothing there! A complete waste of time. Thanks for that.”

Dumbledore removed his spectacles, intensifying his gaze. “I apologize. It was the only idea I had at the time, and I regret that I was wrong.”

“Must be a shock, being wrong, for you—isn’t it?”

Dumbledore slammed a hand down on the desk, causing Severus to jump. “If you’ve come here to blame all your problems on me, you can leave. I’m not giving you your job back until Voldemort is dead.”

“Then I’d better start looking for a new job, because we all know that’s never going to happen.” Severus knew that a dramatic exit would have had a profound effect, but his legs wouldn’t move. The silence was heavy, the tension tangible. Severus stared at the desk, and finally gave in. “Sorry. What do you think I should do? I’m so lost.”

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. “Lily will soon realize that she’s no better off without you. She has no information to go on. If you go to her with a good lead, I think she’ll be willing to come with you, and eventually she’ll be able to forgive you.”

Severus doubted this. “Won’t it be the orphanage all over again? Crushing her hopes?”

“No. I’m willing to bet I have the right location this time.”

It took a moment for Severus to make sense of this. “You have another idea?”

“Yes. It’s very near to the place you just were—somewhere Voldemort went as a young boy. It has more significance to him and is secure and hidden. The more I think about it, the surer I am that this is the place. I would go there myself, but this is something Lily has to do.”

Severus was hanging on the edge of his seat, both figuratively and literally, listening intently to every word. “Where is it?” he pressed in a low voice.

“It is a cave on the coast, near a small village. The children from the orphanage went there on a holiday, and Voldemort did something to two of the kids there… near the cave, or possibly inside of it… something they never spoke of.”

A chill ran down Severus’s spine. He could only imagine what kinds of things even a young Voldemort would be capable of doing.

“I will not claim to know there is a Horcrux there, but there’s a good chance,” Dumbledore said. “Find Lily and tell her… but it’d be wise to wait a few days. I’m sure she’s too determined to let an opportunity like this slip by.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Severus muttered. “And she’ll kill me before I get the chance to explain.” He realized he might not be exaggerating.

Dumbledore sighed and slipped his glasses back onto his crooked nose. “So you want to give up? Not just on the hunt, but on her?”

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “Can’t I go to the cave myself?”

“It would be very dangerous, that I am certain of,” Dumbledore warned. “It’s hard to say whether or not you would make it out alive if you were to attempt it alone.”

Severus decided that Dumbledore was just trying to scare him into patching things up with Lily. So he told him what he wanted to hear. “Okay, I won’t go alone. Can you tell me where the cave is so Lily and I can go straight away? As soon as I find her?”

Dumbledore’s eyes bored into Severus’s for several long seconds, as if he was attempting Legilimency. But he was being rather obvious about it, and Severus was never reluctant to make use of his Occlumency. Eventually, the headmaster seemed satisfied and began to explain the specifics of the cave’s location. Severus listened raptly, all the while wondering if this would be a suicide mission… wondering if he should honor his word and find Lily before the cave… But he knew that she would be far more likely to forgive him if he came to her with a Horcrux in hand.


End file.
